It's always the quiet ones
by CanisterMain
Summary: He could be a genius. He could be a SAS Elite Soldier. But he couldn't talk to girls. Luckily, he has the best team to back him up. Mute/Dokkaebi.
1. Chapter 1

The workshop was a spacious place, where all operators, or at least most of them, improved their gadgets, some were so special as they needed daily care.

There were twelve personal square tables, which were separated by 6 near the door, and 6 near the large rectangular window, which overlooked the backyard of the Rainbow base. They were separated by a large table in the middle of the room, that served as storage of spare parts, tools and stuff.

Also useful when some people wanted to do teamwork, or when Seamus wanted to polish his hammer, or just leave it there.

The decoration was poor, since many accidents happened there, mostly with explosives involved. Shuhrat was the cause of most of them. In his opinion, "collateral damage" was not something to care about. And that was the reason that Six never send the uzbek for a hostage extraction.

It was almost lunchtime, and a lone figure worked there, in a corner near the window. Masaru was very focused on his drone, Yokai. Its daily care was in progress. Silence was key to accuracy, and he couldn't afford any mistake.

"Come on, come on..." he was replacing one of the propellers. Yokai's hovering was a little weird when serving breakfast in the morning.

Humming, another figure appeared by the door, and sat at the middle table, the closest to the large one.

Masaru managed to stay focused. Anyway, it was just a simple humming. After a while, of hearing the welding sound, which was also bearable, the humming turned into a singing voice.

" _Take oooon meee, take on me_..."

The Japanese blinked twice, his concentration interrupted. He looked where the voice came from. Jordan Trace was happily welding his c4s, with a pair of black earphones in his ears.

It was totally unnecessary for him to make so much noise.

" _I'll beeee goooooone ... In a day or_ ... Ow!" During the climax of his singing, he burned his hand with the welder. The texan never wore protective gloves for an unknown reason.

Masaru smirked, but his concentration was lost. He put the screwdriver aside, and started playing some game on his cell phone. Yokai buzzed, as if it were complaining that his owner was taking away his attention of it.

After many songs of the eighties and nineties, Masaru had to admit that he liked to hear some of them, even though it was Jordan's voice he was hearing..

" _Put on the red light_...!"

" _Roxanne._ " Masaru replied. The texan wouldn't hear him anyway.

After some burns and lost levels on the japanese's phone, Jordan finished two of his exothermic charges.

"Ah, at last" he sighed, stretching and appreciating his new 'toys'.

"At last " Masaru whispered to himself, taking the screwdriver again, putting his cellphone back to his pocket.

He still needed to put in Yokai a new spare, so there was no time to lose. The last days he had eaten nothing but bread and coffee, being distracted by his beloved drone, and was already getting hungry. Even if he called Yumiko for help, she'd just ignore him, as she was really sick of his laziness.

"Hey Echo, going for lunch in a bit, you coming?" Jordan stood up, grabbing his charges.

"I'll pass." Masaru answered, without looking at him.

Jordan was about to leave, but he stopped himself.

"Look at this, have you noticed?" The texan chuckled.

"I highly doubt it." the japanese was still trying to regain his focus.

"I like this cactus. It reminds me of my golden ages! Whose is this? Oh, here says... From Chandar, Mark. Is this Mute's?"

"Uh huh, I guess." Masaru nodded, but he was becoming more irritated with every second that passed.

"Here's more: To Nam, Grace. Figures, this one is her spot."

Two tables to the right of the Japanese, there was one full of stickers, the same type that had the Logic Bomb. It stood out a lot to the others.

"Maybe Mark likes Grace, I don't know, but could shut the fuck up, Trace? I'm trying to work here." Masaru growled, hitting the table with the screwdriver's bottom.

Yokai buzzed again, as if it were trying to calm his owner.

" 'kay, 'kay, don´t get mad. " Jordan turned and left, humming a new song.

"At last. Peace and quiet."

However, Masaru, out of curiosity, turned to see the cactus. Indeed, there was one. It was small, with two arms, in a pot of the perfect size. In one of the arms, it had a reddish flower, which gave the plant a touch of beauty.

It was strange that Mark is leaving such details to someone. The youngest of the SAS had never shown any interest in anyone, be it man, woman or whatever was in between. His only visible love was Moni, his signal disruptor, in which he spent most of his time, repairing, improving, or just hiding it from Dominic, the german prankster.

Several times the japanese and the brit had been compared by their relationship with their gadgets, but none really cared. Masaru liked Mark, he was silent and only focused on his stuff.

In fact, he didn't see it as impossible. A few weeks ago, Six ordered Grace to improve her Logic Bomb, and Masaru, to help her out. The attackers were going to need it on a mission, which was easier than it seemed, or at least that was what Yumiko said when she returned from it.

The weird thing was that, every time they came to the workshop to do the job with Grace's gadget at the large table, Mark was already there, or suddenly appeared a few minutes later.

"Hello, Mark!" the korean girl smiled as she waved him.

The first time Masaru was surprised. Since when did Grace call him by his name? Only the SAS did that, nobody else was confident enough with him to do that. Maybe Chul, but he didn't talk much. Maybe less than the young brit.

Masaru looked at each other suspiciously. Something odd was going on.

"H-Hi," Mark replied softly, as if he was afraid of her. But his expression remained hidden behind his gas mask, including the adhesive tape.

He took his jammer with him, and deposited it in two seats in front of her and Masaru. No matter what the situation was, he always ended up looking at Grace. Almost staring. So much that it was turning creepy.

However, Mark was quick enough to turn away when the korean girl tried to look back at him.

As the days passed, Masaru began to care less about it. However, he was almost impressed, Mark sometimes kept "improving" Moni, while glancing at her.

One day, Grace got lipstick and a little make up. Or more than she had before, Masaru had no idea. He wasn't supposed to notice that kind of stuff.

The japanese didn't make a single comment and tried to work as usual.

The same scenario as always was repeated, greeting and then absolute silence from Mark.

Masaru sighed, it seemed like it was going to be another day of third wheel discomfort.

He made his usual attempt to ignore them, but he stopped himself. What if she...? Damn.

"Hey, Grace." Masaru called her as casually as he could.

"Hm? What's wrong?" She turned to him, and stopped typing on her laptop for a moment.

The japanese sighed in relief. No puppy eyes, no dilated pupils, no fake smile. At least reading Yumiko's teen magazine had been useful for something.

Masaru wouldn't have known how to act otherwise. Besides, he had been in love before, and now he did not have the time for that kind of crap.

"No, it's nothing." he shook his head.

Masaru felt Mark's gaze on himself, but he shrugged. Soon they were going to return to the usual "staring - look adorable" exchange.

A weird sound returned him to the loneliness of the workshop. It was a growl of his stomach. Maybe it was time to speed up his work.

"But when did he leave it here?" thought Masaru.

Probably in the morning, Mark always tried to learn Taina's step and go unnoticed where he was going. If the japanese was working on Yokai, he would not have noticed anything at all.

"Maybe I just should put it on Lesion's garden, he has so many of these that he won't notice" Masaru chuckled, turning away from the plant and focused again on his own drone.

Yokai buzzed. As if it were happy to receive the spare it so badly needed.

* * *

Despite being daytime, the first floor sleeping quarters' hallway was dark. The few light came from the window at the end, which gave a shy view of the garden, which some operators took care of as a hobby.

The spacious bedrooms, with four little and private rooms, were on the first floor, and the small ones, with just two rooms, were on the second floor.

Each door had a metal plate with a name according to the residents inside. The SAS had a British flag on the side, the GSG-9 a Germany one, the GIGN a French and so on.

In front of the FBI SWAT room, which was in the middle, there was a showcase, where all news about all of Rainbow was placed. Or at least that was the idea, because now anyone only had to send a message to their chat group and problem solved.

However, there was still the invitation for Jäger's birthday party, which was celebrated last week. Alexsandr was very fond of the old habits and made it.

Two doors to the right was the SAS room. A sign that said: "Thatcher" was trying to cover "Layza soights" written in indelible ink. Dominic's jokes were never missing.

Voices were heard through that door.

"Why does the old man take so long? I'm hungry." Seamus's deep voice asked.

"Perhaps breakfast got him sick." answered Mark's muffled voice.

"Awesome, James left without us" there was the sound of a door closing. "Let's get going, the old man will take an hour or two to get out of there."

The sound of a door opening was heard this time.

"Because I DO have hair and beard to take care of!" Mike's voice growled "And stop calling me old!"

"You have hair yet, old man." Seamus happily ignored his last sentence, "Ready now?"

"Give me a sec, let me dry myself out."

A gray cat came silently to the door of the SAS. Upon hearing the voices, he stopped and sat, looking at the door, expectantly.

"Will you go with the mask on again to get lunch, Mark?" Mike asked, with a little annoyance.

"It does not bother anyone, if that's what you mean." Mark replied, bored as usual.

"Hey, old man, did you hear the latest news?" Seamus said, with a mischievous tone.

"Oh, a gossip? Just say it, Cowden..."

"One of my super reliable sources assures me..."

"I think I already have an idea of what you're going to say, Cowden. It involves someone around here, right?"

"Yep, thought it was pretty obvious."

The silence lasted a few seconds.

"What, why are you looking at me?" Mark's voice was a little louder than usual.

Seamus and Mike laughed.

"Look kid, when I was young..."

"Is it me or do all the old people always say they had a lot of girlfriends?" Seamus snapped out.

"They do, Sledge. And I'm not old. I'm middle-aged. "

"You sure? I don't think that's..."

"Shut up. Going back to the subject, have you already tried asking her out?"

"Who? I don't know what you are talking about, Thatcher." Mark tried to suppress his nerves, but his voice changed to higher pitch, making it more obvious than it was before.

"We're talking about your korean bombshell Dokkaebi." Seamus emphasized each word.

Mark gasped and quickly gulped.

"Son, don't make it harder for yourself. Have you talked to her, invited her out, something?"

Silence took over the place for a while. Mark snorted.

"I gave her a cactus, happy?"

"Seriously, a cactus?" Seamus frowned.

"Well, it's not a bad idea, if she likes it and you have given it to her personally." Mike tried to see the bright side.

"Oh, actually..." Mark took a long pause. "I left it in her spot at the workshop"

"You couldn't give it to her yourself? Oh, man up Mark!" Seamus snapped, disappointed.

"I wasn't going to give the cactus out of nowhere! Grace would think I'm a weirdo..."

"And don't you think she'd do exactly that? After seeing your thorny little friend?"

"Wait, wait, Do you even have talked to her?" Mike asked calmly. "Besides saying hi" he added.

A moment of silence passed.

"No." Mark's voice sounded increasingly frustrated. "Besides, I don't know even why I'm telling you this!" The screech of a sofa being pushed back was heard.

The sound steps coming towards the door were heard.

"Stop right there, Mute." Mike's voice was still peaceful. "We just wanna help. Plus, it'd be awesomely nice if the woman whose goal in life is making her colleagues rage over and over again with pranks finds another way of entertainment, and that could be you."

"But Mark is boring" Seamus simply stated, and grinned.

"Cowden, you are not helping. Now, kid, come here and sit down. Did you have a girlfriend in high school?"

"No, never got interested. Besides, who has a girlfriend at twelve?"

"Alright, in college?"

"I don't think that twenty-year-old girls are interested in fourteen year-old-lads."

"Have you ever talked to a girl in your life?" Mike was losing all the hope he had.

"No. Romantically, no." Mark said quietly.

"Awesome, we're at about ... zero percent of progress." Mike feigned enthusiasm.

The cat began to scratch the door.

"It must be Bandit's cat, James feeds him sometimes." Mark spoke up, trying to change the subject.

Steps were heard coming again to the door, but they were deeper this time. The door swung open.

"Out!" Mike kicked, aiming to the air.

The cat ran out terrified. The opened door let see what seemed to be the SAS' small living room. Two armchairs, a couch and a small table. There was an abstract painting, and it could be seen another door that had a sign that said "Smoke". The SAS members were dressed casually, as it was their free day, but Mark had his mask on.

"I dunno why you hate cats so much, you are a lot like them, old man." Seamus pointed out.

"Huh?" Mike turned and crossed his arms.

Quickly the Scotsman took a small object out of his pocket, and turned it on, firing a red light to Mike's forehead.

"Boom, headshot."

Mark chuckled. Mike looked at the young brit and raised an eyebrow. It was very rare to see him laugh at something. Seamus had the same reaction, and aimed the red laser to Mark.

"It seems that love is changing someone" Mike leaned against the door frame.

"The looooooove" the Scotsman shake the laser all over Mark's chest.

If it had been possible, Mark would be letting steam out of his face. Seamus' stomach growled loudly.

"Don't you think we're done here, kid. Today it's the Germans' turn to serve lunch. Let's get going" Mike turned to the hallway. "Cowden, turn-that-fooking-thing-off."

"Aye, aye. I trust that Jäger and IQ'll do something edible." Seamus put the little laser thing back to his pocket and followed , but stopped and peeked through the door. "Hey, Mark!"

"Oh, coming." he said, returning to reality. Mark followed Seamus, and closed the door.

"As long as Bandit doesn't touch the food..." the voice of Mike was heard a little far now.

"Hey, who gave the idea of the cactus?" asked Seamus as the sound of his steps halted. "I know you are not that dumb to begin your courting like that."

"Uh... You are not gonna like the answer."

"Just tell me. I'll know anyway."

"It was... James' idea." Mark ran off behind Mike. It was obvious he didn't want to see the scotsman reaction.

"Oh, man, from zero progress... It's now minus one."


	2. Chapter 2

The shooting gallery was the second largest room in Herefordshire. It was divided by shooting booths and lockers. It had capacity for eight operators to be practicing simultaneously, which only happened when Mike, the old SAS, ordered and supervised.

The lockers were the essentials of this place. Each operator had his own, and their weapons and equipment were deposited there. Next to it, was a table whose drawers were filled with bullets of different calibers, enough to last a lifetime.

"You're lucky Mark is head over heels for you, Grace"

"Seriously, Mira?"

"If he wasn't that shy, I'd make a move on him every night."

Both were in the shooting gallery, in a shooting booth next to each other. Elena was already finished, her target already full of holes. She stayed as company to Grace, who was in the middle of her practice, but she wasn't shooting. She was more like messing around.

Both wore headphones, due to the deafening noise of each shot Grace was supposed to be making.

"You have to think about doing something about him, because if you don't, I'll have to act myself." Elena said, polishing her Vector SMG.

Grace snorted and missed her first shot in awhile. She couldn't help but being annoyed at the comment of her fellow operator, even if it was only a joke. Assuming that was what it was.

"I'm sure I could make him feel better than you." She peeked the other booth and winked.

The spaniard laughed. With her weapon shining on her side, she was filling her Vector mags with bullets on the nearby table.

"Mark and Grace sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." she sang innocently.

The Korean smiled, wondering how they went from talking in a double sense to saying something so childish. She aimed again at the target, making a hole where it was supposed to be a man's head.

Timur Glazkov came in unexpectedly. When he saw Elena, he bowed as greeting.

"Hey Glaz." the spanish operator said with her lips, not making any noise, and then continued with her work.

The russian, who wore his characteristic headphones, went to pick up his Ots-03 from his locker, as well as a pair of mags. Taking distance of three cabins from Grace's, he started shooting.

For a long while, only the sound of the shots was heard. Elena began to test another parts in her weapon, changing them and firing from time to time in her own booth.

Sooner or later, they had to run out of ammo, so the shooters had to return to their lockers.

"So, you and Mute, huh?" Timur teased, surprising Grace, as she grabbed another pair of mags out of her locker.

"What... are you talking about?"

"Apparently Mira's voice can go through the walls."

"Hey, that's rude, Glazy" the spaniard who was still in her booth, had also stopped firing, now just examining her weapon's reflex sight.

"Why are you matching me with Mark out of nowhere?" Grace said, reloading her Mk 14.

"Uh, because of what you did at Ja...?" Timur replied.

"Shush, Glazkov!" Elena interrupted, a little bit too late.

"What, doesn't she know yet?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not!"

"Wait, what are you two talking about?"

"Nothing, Grace, it's nothing, Hahaha ..."

"If you don't wanna tell me, fine." she returned to her booth, but her tone, besides being calm, was creepy. Creepy as hell.

"Okay, Okay, it was last week, you, me, Kapkan and Frost were taking something on the balcony, you became something erratic and ..."

"Come now, the story is better than that, let me."

"Ooooh, the artist." Grace hissed with irony.

-Flashback-

Jäger's party was on the second floor of Herefordshire, in the entertainment room.

Only a few operators weren't here. Even Mark was hanging around, chatting occasionally with Seamus and drinking, more coke than alcohol itself.

Some were playing cards, enjoying themselves without saying much. Others were just playing beerpong. Most of the people were watching James vs Marius in a dancing game, both of them doing it... quite badly, but at least they tried.

Somewhat distant, on the pool table, were Craig, Mike, Gustave and Aria, playing in silence, with a comment here and there.

The meeting could have gone unnoticed, until the strong drink arrived.

Two hours later, the survivors were still drinking Alexsandr's vodka, who was asleep on one of the couches, serving as a cushion for Lera.

Apparently the russian had taken out his legendary reserve, which it was rumoured to be endless.

At the same table where they had been playing cards, they were now taking shots and telling stories, and it was Seamus' turn.

"I had nothing to defend myself with, three aiming at me, I could have died, but I found that beauty, and just by seeing it, I knew everything was going to be fine."

"For Sledge's hammer! Nice!" toasted Ela, who was sitting comfortably on Meghan's lap.

"I have another, I have another." Seamus continued. It seemed he was concentrating to say another memory.

Instead, he let out a loud burp. The public was divided now between who celebrated and who disliked it. However, as long as his story continued, the rest did not matter.

At the pool table, there were only two people: Mark and Emmanuelle. They were not playing, they were just sitting on top of it, next to each other, talking and laughing.

The two of them spoke normally in the workshop, but outside there they were complete strangers. Especially Mark, who didn't like to talk to anyone outside the SAS. Unless, he had high alcohol levels on his blood.

His own gas mask was at his side. Although it was obvious, he couldn't drink anything if he had it on. And the worst, he was laughing. Maybe the vodka had too much effect on him.

Nearby the furniture where the TV and the gaming console were, there was a balcony, which gave the sight of a beautiful night landscape, accompanied by a waning moon. From there, a pair of dark eyes were staring at brit and the french.

"Hey, Gracey, wassup? Oh, isn't that your fourth shot? Whoa, take it izzy." Elena was leaning against the railing, already controlling her booze, although it still had a lot of effect on her.

"He is MY Mark, MY Mark, MY Mark." Grace was sitting on the floor, just beside her friend. She had a little glass filled in her hand, and her eyes fixed on her target.

"Your Mark? Are you marking someone? What? Ooo-hic-ooooh...you like Mute, that's new, Gracey."

"What I don't like is that he's too close to Twitch, I-hic-I should do something." She drank for her glass quickly enough to not feel the burn, and put it away.

She hardly managed to stand up, but she fell to the ground in the process, returning to the same initial position.

"Mira, what's wrong with Grace?" asked Tina, who was on the other side of the balcony, next to Maxim.

"Have no ideeeea... she had only taken you a couple of drinks, nothing strong." Elena took a deep breath.

"Did you give her a drink?" Tina picked up the empty glass Grace had left on the ground. "Didn't you know she does not handle any kind of alcohol at all?"

"Noes-hic-sss" Mira started babbling.

"Hey, where is Dokkaebi going?" Maxim observed, pointing to the inside room.

She somehow managed to stand up and now was slowly zigzag walking to the pool table. Not making much noise, but clearly with a fist formed.

"Oh no, -hic-'s going to punch Twitch." Elena made the gesture of moving towards her, but couldn't keep her balance, falling on her back again. "I don't like Twitch anyways." she added, chuckling.

Tina, Maxim and Elena stayed to see the scene. Emmanuelle was showing her tablet to Mark, probably showing memes to him.

A howl from Seamus' table interrupted them. Like the old bar game, each present had to take a shot of vodka.

Elena and Maxim, out of concern of the korean, toasted and served each other from the half-empty bottle the russian had in his possession.

"Good teammates are you, huh?" Tina turn to them and narrowed her eyes disgusted, causing Maxim to shrug, but her expression changed to concern when she returned her gaze to Grace.

She had fallen to the ground, face down and seemed inert. The canadian quickly went to help her get up, leaving the glass she had on a nearby table. Her nose and forehead were bright red, but her drunkenness was enough for her to not feel much pain.

Helping her to stand up, Grace pointed to the pool table again, and made Tina look at it too. If all this had been to get the young brit's attention, it had been in vain. James was in front of them, serving him and Emma from another bottle of vodka.

"Come on, don't make yourselves exquisite now, Bottoms up!" the canister lover exclaimed and took a shot himself.

Grace took a step forward to go there, but Tina stopped her right on the spot. They struggled a bit, but Tina was much stronger. She led her to a nearby couch, where Jordan and Eliza were singing happily together with the stereo.

"Heeeeeeey, Dokki, Frost." said the Texan as soon as the korean sat down. He looked at each one briefly. "How you doin '?"

"Lame pick up line, Thermite." Tina responded as she sat too, letting out a giggle. Grace looked like she was about to faint.

"Ow, that's mean. Can you go back to where you were and come back here? I have another one."

"In your dreams, Trace." Tina again focused on Grace. If she went on like this, she could do things she could regret tomorrow. Someone should take her...

Suddenly, the korean jumped and passed an arm around Jordan's shoulder, who decided to continue singing with Eliza.

"I've fallen in love! I've fallen in love for the first time, and this time I know it's for real..."

The three sang together, giving a lot of feeling to the lyrics. Tina rolled her eyes, amused.

Someone should take Grace to her room to rest. She would have taken her herself, but she didn't want to leave Maxim. He wouldn't have agreed to do it either, as he doesn't like to do that kind of things.

The dependent ones who could do it were drunk, "busy with feelings" or gone, and those who were sufficiently sober like Jordan, were gossipy enough to tell all Rainbow about Grace's booze, her crush to Mark, and many, many things she would say in her current status.

However, it took a couple of minutes to find the obvious solution: Chul, but he wasn't at the party.

Contacting him was a bit complicated, being the group chat the only way, and it was a little restricted for "just work stuff". The majority who had tried to communicate with him, never received an answer of the call, neither the double check of received message. Apparently he had blocked most of Rainbow.

Tina was no exception, and she realized as soon as she tried. Or maybe he had his phone turned off.

"Hey, Grace, can you lend me your phone?" she asked, causing her to let go of Jordan.

"What-hic-do you want it for?" the korean replied, fanning herself with her hand, feeling a sudden heat.

"I want to call Chul, to take you to your room, you are very... uh..."

"But he's not fun at all! And he's very serious! I don't want him here!" Grace's voice was very sharp, like a little girl's.

"Then what do you wanna do?" Tina murmured, somehow irritated.

"I want my Mar-hic-away from that damn French, and I want him to take me to bed!"

"Mar what, Dokki? I can be all the Mar you want if that's all you need to..." Jordan suddenly joined the conversation, earning a very disgusted expression from Tina.

"Easy, cowboy. M'heart is not yours." the korean pushed him, causing his head to fall onto Eliza's lap.

"I'll call him, just give me your cell phone." Tina urged.

All excited, Grace took it out of her jacket, quickly unlocked it with her fingerprint and handed it to her. Tina, without another better idea, called Chul immediately.

"Yes, what's wrong, Eun Hye?" Chul's voice was sleepy.

"Vigil, I'm Frost." Eh, Dokkaebi had a few drinks and ... "

Crack. He did not let her finish, and the line was cut.

"What did he say? Will he come-hic-get me?" Grace said, as soon as Tina took off the phone from her ear.

"Here he comes, he's just saying goodbye to Twitch."

The worst thing that could happen was the drama Grace could cause when she found out about the lie, or when she started throwing up.

Tina started to think that he wasn't going to come, but soon Chul appeared, wearing his normal clothes and mask. He noticed Grace instantly, moving her head from side to side, waiting excitedly on the couch. Without thinking twice, he went where she was.

"Let's go." he said simply.

"But I don't want to leave yet!" She negated, with a sharp and girly voice.

"A little while ago you wanted to..." Tina sighed.

"But I wanted Mark to take me, not him!"

Luckily Jordan were singing again with Eliza and didn't hear anything. At least seemed to.

"I'm Mute, we've changed masks for a while." his voice wasn't amused by the situation, at all.

"Lying-hic-doesn't suit you, Chul Kyung." said Grace, observing again the pool table.

"I'm not for this, Eun Hye." he turned to the canadian. "Help me, Frost."

Chul turned around and crouched in front of Grace.

"Lift her off the couch and try to lean her on my back, I'll take care of the rest."

Jordan and Eliza had finished their bottle, and went to find another one, so now they had more space. Tina tried to do as Chul said, despite Grace's refusal.

"If you keep putting yourself that way, I swear I'm going to put a miniature Welcome Mat on your laptop."

The korean girl continued with her tantrum, but she agreed to move now.

Having her already leaning on Chul's back, he grabbed her legs, got up and hurried towards the door, quickly to avoid unpleasant looks. In any case, they weren't going to see them, most were listening to Maestro, being himself who was telling his story at that moment, and the others in a "quality time" or just drunk.

"Finally..." Tina thought, but another howl, again from the table interrupted her. Almost everyone started drinking again.

She turned to see the balcony. Maxim and Elena were still drinking from the endless bottle, with nothing to distract them.

-End of Flashback-

Grace had a reddish tinge on her cheeks and was looking to the ground. Timur was very pleased with himself as he was taking revenge for a few pranks that she had done to him earlier.

"And how did you know about that, Glazy? I didn't see you partying at Jager's meeting." asked Mira, who chuckled from time to time she heard her name in the story.

"Well, Maxim was there. He told the Spetsnaz what happened."

"It's not true. You saw it too, Glaz, I saw you at the meeting." Grace stated, with a sudden bravery.

"I didn't say I wasn't there. Maybe a little while." Timur was starting to look a little nervous.

"You were with Caveira. Probably I was drunk as hell, but I would swear to Six that I saw you with Cavi that night."

"That's not... uh.."

"Hey, now that I remember, it's true, you were both in a corner, very close to each other..." Elena left her Vector on the table and put a hand on her chin, trying to reminiscence.

Timur chose not to answer, and grabbed his Ots-03, and went to his booth.

"Hi, Caveira!" exclaimed Grace, right on the russian's blind spot.

He suddenly misstepped and fell on top of his weapon, which was still unloaded.

"Oof." He gasped, on the floor, turning to see the door. There was no one besides the spaniard and the korean.

"Bullying me does not suit you, Timur. Let's go, Mira, I'm hungry." Grace looked at him on the floor, and began to disassemble her Mk14.

"Oh, yes, today we have the German's cooking." Elena answered and picked up her SMG and put it into her locker. "I liked the potato salad they served last time."

Timur had his ankle a little sore with the fall, so he sat on the floor.

"You're going to stay there, Glaz? The real Caveira could come here and if she finds out you've denied her..."

"Ah. Please wait, I'm going to get lunch too." the russian stood up instantly, with a grimace of pain on his face.

"Coward." The girls both laughed, but deeply they knew that the brazilian woman was terrifying and a little crazy.

* * *

Outside of Hereford base, just to the left of the building, was the area called "Lesion's Garden." The place was somehow rustic, separated by three places.

The first was where he planted corn, some square bushes and various fruits, the main attraction being apple trees, which stood in a line, a little far from the plants that needed sun to live and grow.

The second was where he planted the plants in pots, for the flowers: orchids, sunflowers, water lilies in pots with water and the ones Liu liked the best, the cactus. Also some strange plants and fungi, some with a sign with a warning: "Do not touch".

The third was a place that was built by himself, and was to take the results of the harvest from the strange plants. The biggest beneficiaries of the presence of this garden were James, Gustave and Lera, whose gadgets needed some natural products to work. Although Liu was a friendly and funny guy, he wouldn't let anyone enter that garden without his permission, arguing that "no one shares his passion". But he gladly accepted the help of anyone who offered.

The sun had been on its highest point for awhile now. James was leaning under one of the apple trees, with his hands serving as a pillow on the back of his head, thinking about the sweet colors of the butterfly that had just passed by, and also about how did it go for Mark with the gift for Grace.

Anyway, he just helped him, he wasn't going to totally meddle in his exciting adventure. Nah, who was he lying? He was definitely doing it. James sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a cool and nice breeze passing by.

He was about to fall asleep when he felt a small throbbing pain on his forehead and opened his eyes.

"Ow." He saw a little spiky wooden stick falling to his nose and then to his chest. He looked up and the garden owner was there, wearing a straw hat, looking at him.

"Trying to steal apples again, James?" Liu asked him, who pulled another spine from his shirt pocket and aimed it to the SAS, again to his face.

"Worst thief in the world, huh?" He raised his hands and sat down, showing that he had no intention of fighting.

"Get up now." Liu offered him his other hand. "What are you doing here? I thought that the German potato thing had all the operators excited."

"Shite, I lost track of time." He took Liu's hand and stood up, then brushed off his clothes. He took out his phone to see the hour, and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't think anyone would expect you that much." the asian laughed, and then put the new spine between his teeth. "How was it?" he added, pulling a pair of pruning shears out from his back pocket.

"How was what?" James replied, putting his phone back into its place.

"The cactus! I gave you one of my favorites because you said you were going to give it to Dokkaebi." Liu was going to where the square bushes were.

"Ah, that, it was not for me, mate. It was a Mute thing." James snapped, following him.

"Oh, no. Poor Mute." Liu arrived and began to prune the out-of-place leaves.

"What?" The Brit stopped.

"What Grace really likes are sunflowers, or that's what she looks at every time she visits me."

"And why did you tell me to give her a bloody cactus? Damn it..."

"Because I thought it was for you, how was I supposed to know? You also sent me a message for that at 2am. Shit almost freaked me out."

"Do you hate me that much, Liu? You are going to break my heart." James put both hands to his chest, seeming hurt.

"It's your fault, I remind you that you still don't pay me back for the last time Sledge and you stole my apples." Liu looked at him and continued to shape the bush, expertly.

"So Grace hates cactus?" James changed the subject instantly.

"I don't think so, but she doesn't like to touch them either."

"Nobody likes to touch them, man, you're the only weirdo who practically adores them."

"Says who refers to his canisters as babes," Liu muttered, finishing with the first bush.

"Argh, I must take that cactus out of there." James murmured, before running back to the building. "See ya, Lesion!"

* * *

Masaru was already leaving the workshop with Yokai following him, as its hovering was normal again. Being distracted by his wrist device, he collided with Elena, falling to his right.

"Ow. That must hurt. Are you alright?" Grace asked, she had to hold Elena on place so she wouldn't fall too.

"Yep, better than ever." the japanese lied on his back and from there he continued to control Yokai, and with a silent movement left the workshop, surprising the three who were standing.

"Hm, what is that?" Timur noticed something green inside the workshop.

Grace and Elena peeked into the room. The cactus was still there, happily and with the red flower standing out.

"Oooooh, look at that. Looks like a gift, and on Grace's table!" Elena said surprised.

"You think?" the two girls entered the workshop, leaving Timur outside.

"No doubts about it, from here I can see Chandar in the dedication." the russian narrowed his eyes, looking at the cactus, but his voice was somehow mocking.

"Shut up, Glaz." Grace said, annoyed.

"Hey, but it's true, here says Mark Chandar. It looks like you're being courted, Grace. Wuuuuuuuh." Elena was starting to irritate her, again.

"It's just a gift, I don't believe its meaning is that deep though." Grace began to look at the plant in detail. She was almost sure she had seen one like that before.

"Nobody gives gifts like that, and Mute, I think it's his first time giving gifts as well." Timur said from the door.

"You say it from experience, huh?" Elena asked, smiling derisively.

"Nyet, Mira. I'm just hungry. Grace, just take it to the café. He'll eventually get there and you'll see his reaction."

"Good idea. You should use those romance tricks with Cavi." Elena suggested with a grin. She seemed to be on the right spot, annoying her two colleagues.

The korean girl took the pot with both hands and, following Elena, left the workshop.

"Where's Masaru?" Grace asked, looking everywhere when she got outside.

"Echo left a while ago. You spent a lot of time staring at the plant."

In the distance footsteps of someone running could be heard. James' figure came from the end of the hallway. After a few seconds he arrived, and stared at the cactus and Grace as well.

"Hey, Smoke, what's up?" Elena asked him, as he recovered his breath.

He waved to the three, but didn't look at her. His gaze was fixed on Grace.

"Do you like cactus, Dokkaebi?" he panted a little.

"They're cute, a little bit dangerous but cute." she replied. The question almost caught her off guard.

"Ah, cool. That's good." James ran down the corridor, where was the café.

The trio watched as he was leaving.

"Seems like all SAS members are involved in this thing." Elena said, barely touching the red flower.

"Weird question from a weird person on a weird day about a weird gift, and it's not even one o'clock." Timur said, laughing at his own joke.

"It doesn't suit you even being funny, Timur." Grace shook her head and then let out a smirk.

And the three of them, with the cactus in the Korean's hands, went to the café.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: Sorry for the wait. If someone was waiting, ofc.**

* * *

The Hereford base cafeteria was generic, almost like a high school one. Just before the kitchen's door was the buffet, where it could be seem what was available of the day, in several silver trays that were numerous and large enough to supply all the residents of the base.

There were two lines of tables, separated so three people could stand in between without any problems. Each had six tables, with four seats. They were enough for all the operators to be eating simultaneously, and there were even spaces left over. Whereas, with every new operation, more residents came to Hereford.

Thrice a week, it was up to a group of four to make lunch. So groups like SAT and GROM, had to join together to cook something. Even if Ela and Zofia had a weird relationship, no one could skip the duty of cooking for all of Rainbow. In addition they had a fifth member, Yokai, the perfect assistant.

Everyone had at least a little knowledge of food for survival in hostile environments, so anyone could do something edible, but the French were the best when it was their turn.

However, those who were inside at that precise moment were the GSG-9.

By the time Seamus, Mike and Mark entered the café, Monika's furious screams were heard from inside the kitchen. They couldn't understand anything because she was speaking in fluent German, but from the tone they could deduce she was mostly swearing.

The only people present besides the trio were Craig, who read the newspaper at the left table near the buffet, and Taina, who was two tables down away from him, playing with her knife with one hand and holding her phone with the other.

The SAS members present, after watching that the food trays were empty, sat down in the table between Craig and Taina, but in the other line.

Mike sat next to Mark, and Seamus in front, turning his back on the buffet.

"Uh, did we got here too early?" Seamus asked, looking at the door where the noise still was coming from, and then his stomach growled.

"Nope. It's almost noon." replied Mike. "Hey Blackbeard, you know what's going on?"

"The only thing I've understood so far is that IQ is shouting at her entire squad. I think there won't be lunch for us today, guys."

"Oh, man. I'm starving! These little blondies..." Seamus stood up and went to the kitchen's door.

Taina, curious, turned to watch the show.

The scotsman knocked hard on the door. After few seconds it opened, just enough for IQ's head to come out.

"What?!" Her eyelid was twitching. Yes, Monika was furious.

Seamus' chest deflated, along with his determination.

"When will the food be ready?" he asked weakly, crossing his arms.

"At the time it should be!" replied the blonde, and slammed the door on his face.

Taina smiled, then continued to play with her knife. Craig seemed like he didn't noticed anything, letting out a single chuckle.

"Are you afraid of women too, Cowden?" teased Mike, grinning at Seamus when he came back.

"And what does that have to do with this, old man? I'm hungry!"

"Well, that trio of muppets pissed her off. I really fear an angry woman's food."

"Also laser sights." Seamus chuckled. "Hey, Mark, you hungry? You seem like you don't care."

The youngest was watching photos on Instagram. Despite not having any picture published, he used it as personal entertainment. And for memes.

"No." he replied without looking at him, while moving the screen with his index finger.

"What are you doing? Snatched!" the bald operator took his device. Mark struggled for a moment, but Seamus was stronger. "Ooooh, niiiice, Marky."

"Mute watching lewd things?" asked Mike, who had also resigned himself to wait and read something from his own phone.

"Not that nice though." Seamus turned the tablet in his hands.

A Grace's picture was shown on the screen. She had her hair loose and was smiling at the camera. The old Brit curved his lips up and said:

"Come on, son, ask her out!"

Mark was red inside his gas mask. Ignoring Mike and Seamus, he retrieved his tablet and blocked it, returning it to one of his pockets.

"The old man is right, Mark. Who knows, our job is dangerous as hell. Someday you'll want being with her from the beginning and not be waiting like an idiot. Like now. "

"Who's emotional now, huh?" Mike laughed.

"With a cactus involved who wouldn't be emotional?" Seamus also chuckled.

"Huh." murmured Mark, dryly.

"Hey, now that I remember, you've been aiming for Dokkaebi's butt for a long time now. Old man, When did White Noise operation started?"

Mark snorted with irritation.

"Last year? Yeh, I almost died in one of those. That's when the koreans and the older Bosak joined Rainbow. Huh, was it love at first sight? I thought you liked her all of a sudden, boy."

"Little Marky is good at hiding. But no one can't hide something forever."

"Wait, wait, I think I remember something, Cowden."

"Nope, you're too old, mate. Let me."

- **Flashback. December 12, 2017.** -

Mark Chandar was peacefully in the living room reading an electronics magazine looking to improve his own equipment and his jammer. He was eating some chips and listening to music, with his gas mask on his side, on a small table.

This was day the new ones were supposed to arrive to Rainbow, but he didn't care at all. Anyway, he was going to meet them in the VR practices, or working in the workshop, whichever came sooner.

He had a strange habit of reading with a song in loop, from his youth full of studies.

" _Either wanna be with me or be me..._ "

It was already the fifth time listening that one.

Since lunch, he hadn't seen any of his roommates, but he couldn't care less. Recently, James had been more unbearable than ever. Seamus might be playing something on his laptop with hot chocolate on his side, which was what he use to do on cold days, and Mike probably in a meeting with Six, about the new ones.

He was comfortable like this. Strangely the silent company of Taina, who also were reading on a nearby couch, felt warm and pleasant.

After a while, he went into to an ad page. He read it quickly, and when he was about to turn the page, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Mark took off his right earphone and looked up. Mike was there, irritated.

"Didn't I tell you to be at the entrance at 1800 to receive the new operators?"

Mark hummed. He looked over to where Taina was supposed to be, but she had vanished.

"Don't 'hm' me, kid, I'm your superior here. Move, now. I gotta go." Mike turned around and left.

Mark wasn't going to follow that order anyway. Finishing that magazine was his main objective at the moment. Moni needed an improve.

Calmly he turned the page, putting on his earphone again, and continued reading.

" _Make you work hard, make you spend hard..._ "

Twenty minutes passed. Mark was totally focused on the letters, highlighting in his mind which parts could be useful. Suddenly, another tap on the shoulder interrupted him. He looked up, expecting Mike to be there.

"Sledge?" he mumbled, as he brought another chip to his mouth.

"Sorry, mate, old man's orders." The scotsman shrugged and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt Mark was wearing and started dragging him.

"Hey, hey, hey! Oi, Seamus! At least let me...!" With a quick move, he exchanged his magazine with his mask, leaving the first on the wooden table.

As soon as they came out of the mess hall, Mark got rid of Seamus' grip and put on the mask, without removing the earphones. He needed the distraction at least.

"If you go back there, Thatcher told me to drag you around the base if necessary. Please do it. This still can be a good day." Seamus asked with an ironic bow.

Mark just shook his head, not knowing exactly what to answer, and they headed towards the entrance.

"Hey, try to look a little excited. Two new girls are coming here as I've heard." The scotsman rubbed his hands with each other trying to give expression to his words, but it was more because of the cold.

"I've already seen their files. One of them is married and has a child." Mark stated. He was always a party pooper and he knew it.

"Aw, come on, you always try to take away the good things of life, don't you?"

"Ah. I guess."

The closer they were to the entrance, they found more operators just chilling. When they left the building, they could see a small outdoor winter gathering. Some were inside the guardhouse, next to the entrance to the Hereford base, covering themselves from the cold.

James was in the middle of the large group, talking casually with Meghan. Something about Ela worried her, as she didn't want to leave her room at all. As a matter of fact, Mark didn't see her having lunch at noon.

"When is this supposed to start? It's already 6:10." Eliza protested loudly, near Yumiko and Jordan.

"Hey Porter, what happened to the old man?" Seamus asked, joining the group, right between Meghan and James. His form moved the entire reunion, making almost everyone move.

"He went out a while ago, and told us not to move. I feel like a trained animal."

"Maybe that's your internal self." Seamus grinned. "Better he doesn't take long, I want to finish watching a TV series I found."

"I just hope it's not Game of Thrones, buddy."

The only good thing about being so many people in the entrance, is that it nullified the cold in its entirety. At least to those who were in the center.

James and Seamus started talking about television series, something that Mark barely had the basic knowledge of.

Since he couldn't engage conversation with anyone else either, he preferred to stay with his SAS colleagues and continue listening to the same song in loop, but lowered the volume.

Minutes later, the small door of the entrance gates opened, Mike passing by. He wore a scarf and thick gloves besides his uniform, and still snorted from the cold.

"Apologies for the wait." He spoke first to all the operators inside. Then he added, raising his voice. "Come on in, newbies."

The first to enter was an adult woman with brown hair, a pair of dark glasses and a gray cap. Her face looked young, but her aura felt mature. She had a huge backpack on her back and a small bag in one of her hands. She carried both without any problems.

According to the files, she had to be Ela's sister, Zofia Bosak.

"Name's Zofia Bosak, codename Zofia. Pleasure to meet you." she said, raising her hand, without addressing anyone in particular, although she seemed to be looking for someone. Then she went into the building.

Then a second individual entered. A man with his face covered by a black mask. On the jacket he wore, there were the numbers 707 and the flag of South Korea, for the rest he was completely dressed in gray and black. He carried a backpack the same size as Zofia's on his back, and also a large bag in each hand. He seemed to be fine, but could fall in any moment.

According to the file, he was one of the koreans. He stopped in the middle of the presents, caught his breath and said aloud:

"Chul Kyung Hwa, codename Vigil."

As soon as he finished, he followed Zofia's footsteps into the building. Mark just looked his mask suspiciously, but then shrugged. He was just here so that Mike would leave him alone for the rest of the day.

The third and last operator entered. Mark was counting the seconds to return to the mess hall, take his magazine and refuge himself in the workshop, only leaving in the middle of the night for something to eat.

"Cowden, thoughts?"

"Not bad, she easily enters the top three."

"Seriously so high? Haha..."

"Yep, her glasses make that effect of perfect sensuality we lack around here."

"Only her glasses? I was thinking of something else..." James smiled mischievously.

"You are disgusting." Seamus turned to him, faking dissappointment.

"Oh, look who's talking." James let out a single laugh.

"I wasn't checking her out, mate. Well, not like you."

The young brit saw her more closely, and blinked a couple of times.

"She's a maneater..."

She was a pretty and young girl. She had a black beanie with the number 707, white strands adorning her black hair. Her asian features were adorned by a pair of round glasses, which gave her a geek look. Her lips seemed to be shining, alongside the whiteness of the snow.

She wore almost the same outfit as Chul, but she made it look lighter and attractive to see. Like the others, she had a backpack, but in her hands she had a tablet, which she didn't take her eyes off. She seemed to be playing something.

Barely noticing the other operators that were there, she raised one of her arms and said:

"Grace Nam, codename Dokkaebi. Nice to meet ya."

"Hoo boy, apparently intellectual. Plus that she enters the top 2, I think." Seamus muttered, slightly hitting James with his elbow.

"Hm, maybe up to top 1. Remember, glasses make girls look naughtier, oh ye..." He made curves with both hands, obviously female ones. "Ow! I know, I know. Sorry." Seamus smacked his head, hard enough for him to get interrupted. "Mark, opinions? Mark?"

James turned to the young brit. He was stunned, staring at the korean girl. Although he was covered by his gas mask, it was obvious what he was doing.

The canister user raised both eyebrows. Mark was supposed to be immune to attraction to any living being.

Seamus, noticing Mark didn't answer, turned to see him too.

"Stone heart no hormones Mark Chandar stared at a girl? I'm so proud!" The scotsman put an arm around Mark's neck, imprisoned him and began to rub his knuckles on his head.

The young brit only wore the mask, so the upper part of his head was unprotected, and his brown hair was free.

"Stop. Sledge. Ow." panted Mark, forcing his own way out.

"So energetic with the cold, fellas?" Mike's voice came from behind them, while the rest of the operators were entering the building.

"Oh? No, nothing, Thatcher. You got here just in time, Ash was about to make a fuss." James replied, then warmed his hands with a bit of his breath.

"It's because of that korean girl... She managed to scare the shite out of the driver I sent, so I had to go to pick them up myself. On the way, everyone's phone but hers started to ring.

"Isn't that her gadget?" James asked, still looking at Mark, whose expression was still covered, but his hands were acting weird. Restless.

"Damn, I had read about it, but I thought she'd only use it on the field. We almost walked because I was about to throw a fookin' EMP grenade onto the air."

"And you drive like an old lady, don't you, Baker?" Seamus crossed his arms and laughed.

"Better safe than sorry." Mike shrugged.

"I don't want to catch a flu." Mark murmured, trying to sound bored as usual, and entered the building, his cold hands on his pockets.

"Oi, don't try to get away, Marky. We want to know details!" spoke up James, but Mark didn't stop.

"What are you talking about?" Mike tried to catch the gist of the conversation.

"Nothing interesting, old man. Let's go, my brain's freezing." Seamus just shook his head, then headed for the entrance to the building. The others went after him.

The main reason why they preferred not to tell Mike was that he could say it in front of Grace. It had happened before, when the rumor of Tina dating Maxim spreaded. Everyone knew it was true because of an old man's slip of tongue, in a shooting practice.

The story wasn't going to repeat itself, especially when the youngest SAS member was the protagonist.

"I'll see you later. I've to inform Six of the arrival of the new ones." that being said, Mike left in another direction, leaving the three in the building's entrance.

"I'll go snoop around in the kitchen, you coming?" Seamus started walking down the main corridor.

"If there is anything from lunch I would like to, Castle is a master cook." answered James, following him.

"I'll go to my room, I have things to do." Mark said dryly and ran ahead past the first two. He didn't want to hear the dynamic duo bothering him again.

"It's not a good idea to stalk her so soon, mate!" James warned him out loud, then laughed with Seamus.

If stalking was searching for her in the internet, he was about to do that. All social networks if necessary. Only as a secret admirer, without following her or anything, as a distant observer.

" _Make you want all of her love..._ "

He was already listening to the same song for almost an hour and he wasn't bored. Maybe all SAS at Rainbow were weird in their own way.

He reached the SAS quarters, and lay down on the couch in the small living room, and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

By Rainbow's rules, no one was allowed to publish any work stuff or anything related, but they could still have a social account.

Mark didn't care much, he only used the networks to see funny memes.

He automatically put "Grace Nam" in the search, and a name appeared in Korean. He had few knowledge of how to differentiate asian symbols. Those which had circles were Hangeoul. He tapped that one slightly, and the profile of the Korean came out with various pictures of her, from various angles. Effective enough to make his pupils get wider.

* * *

"Wait. I didn't do that." Mark simply negated.

"I know, I just try to go on with the story though. Besides, I think you just gave yourself away, Marky." Seamus replied with a snicker.

At least Monika had stopped screaming. The cafeteria was silent again.

"Nope." The young brit crossed his arms. He had his own version of the story, but his roommate's wasn't far from reality.

* * *

Mark was scared of himself. He hadn't thought like this until now. His phone vibrated twice, making his heart skip a beat.

There were messages from the work group. Mike had just added the three new ones.

"We'll have a welcome dinner in the main room at 2000. That's all."

Under normal circumstances, Mark would only have gone to bring his food and come back to eat here, to avoid being in a crowd. But this time he wanted to go. To see her again, just that.

Holy shit, now this was scary. Was this the feeling of being attracted to someone?

He took a quick shower with hot water, then polished his mask, leaving it shiny, and put two new pieces of tape to the mouthpiece, forming an X. For the first time in his life he was unsure of which clothes to wear. Although everything was similar, dark blue cargo pants, dark blue jeans, dark dress pants, black leather coat, blue and black jackets, dark colored shirts. Most of his shoes were military tactics, leaving a pair of sneakers and a pair of dark blue slippers.

He noted that if he dressed differently, someone would notice the possible interest he had in Grace. He chose his usual uniform, his now shiny gas mask and the same scarf he was wearing before. He wanted to look as ordinary as possible. His phone vibrated again, while he secured the mask on his face. It was a message from Seamus.

"Get your ass over here now because I don't want your crush to see me drag you down the entire base every time you have a tantrum."

Mark saw the hour. It was 7:50 p.m.

"Is the food already served?" wrote the young brit.

"Yeh, I think the old man said the time wrong to serve himself first. *laughing emoji*"

Adjusting the laces of his boots and putting on the perfume he rarely used, he headed to the mess hall. He was nervous, despite he knew it was for no reason at all. She wasn't going to notice him.

"Perfect, you stand out three times more than us, Way to go, Mark." Seamus greeted him on the sofa near the fireplace in the living room, which was full of operators eating lasagna.

"Get something to eat before we ran out of food. If these people sin about something, gluttony is the word." James was sitting next to Seamus.

Shit. He had forgotten that detail. To eat, he needed to take off his mask, and for no reason at all he wanted her to see his face. Not today at least.

"I'm not hungry." he said, and sat next to James.

He gave a glance to the entire room. The same armchair where he was previously reading his magazine had two people. Chul was sitting with his black mask up, eating, and Grace, beside him on the armrest, was reading quietly from Mark's magazine.

James, who had followed the young brit's gaze, snorted.

"Isn't that the magazine I gave you? Wow, you act so smooth, Mark... You look like a direct disciple of Caveira."

"I didn't give it to her."

"Yep... We already know. Not that you were going to change drastically from yesterday." Seamus was taking some tomato sauce with his fork to his mouth, and he stopped before he could taste it, leaned forward a little and looked at him with sudden fear. "You didn't, right?"

Mark tilted his head to the left as he looked back at the scotsman.

"I'm not James to do that."

"I know you want to be me, ya little grasshopper."

Seamus leaned on the back to his seat, and put the fork inside his mouth.

"Question. Why do we eat here instead of the cafeteria?" Marius asked, on a near sofa, to Elias, who was next to him, enjoying the food. They were opposite to the SAS members.

The shieldbearer swallowed and just shrugged.

"Well, the fireplace. The café's heating died in the afternoon as far I know. "

"And is that why those two are like that?" Marius pointed to Maxim and Tina, who were sharing the same scarf, despite being separated by half a meter.

"Uh huh. Exactly." Elias raised his right thumb and smirked at him with a touch of irony.

Marius kept eating, satisfied with himself, obviously not noticing sarcasm.

Mark pulled out his phone out of his pocket. The same song from two hours ago was still playing, and he seemed not to get bored, as he had gotten it worse.

Also when he looked at Grace, his whole field of vision turned into a video clip.

"Oh, look at him, Cowden. He's checking his prey before attacking." James gazed at him, with a mischievous snicker.

"As an older brother I can't be more proud. My little Marky is becoming man!" Seamus made the gesture with his finger to be wiping off an imaginary tear.

James started sniffing. As if something wasn't in place, and approached Mark.

"You have put on cologne! Really?"

Mark tried to ignore it.

" _Wish you never met her at all..._ "

"Even if it smells like an oldie's one, it's a big step. A new Mark was born today!"

"You are disturbing the rest, Smoke." Mark snapped with annoyance.

"Have you thought in a pick-up line?" James continued, ignoring his younger roommate.

He had no interest in talking with him about that, but eventually Mark had to turn to someone with experience, for help. Google could help too, but he didn't trust the internet that much.

"I got one just in case: I think I need to report you to Spotify cause you're one of the hottest singles this week." the canister lover said with a deep voice.

"And if she is not single?" Mark simply replied.

"Oh, then you come back here and we think of another for committed girls."

"..."

James and Mark looked at each other for a couple of seconds, unable to say anything else. Seamus was still eating quietly. When they suddenly heard her voice.

"Does anyone know whose this magazine? I'll borrow it, whoever it is from." Grace had raised the magazine in the air with one hand and showed it to the rest of the operators, making most of them glance over. They looked at it briefly, and kept eating again.

"There's your chance!" James hit Mark with his elbow.

"I've been around the world and I've never seen a girl like this ..."

The young brit didn't react at all. He just stared at Grace. Her beautiful face, her lips, her...

"Darn it, mate. Stop just seeing her and do something." James took a deep breath and spoke up. "Hey you, the new one! It's his!" He pointed at Mark with his fork.

Suddenly he felt a cold air pass through his body despite having everything covered and having a fireplace almost a meter away. Mark looked at the ceiling to avoid any uncomfortable eye contact. He expected his mask to do the rest of the work.

"You! The masked one! " Mark heard Grace refer to him, but he ignored her.

"Don't be rude. She's calling for you, mate." James said, without looking at him, and smiling, he brought a piece of lasagna to his mouth.

The temperature on Mark's face rose alarmingly, and also his desire to kill James. He had to think fast.

As if his neck were a rusty hinge, he turned slowly to the korean, who was still holding the magazine, waving it from one side to the other. She stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Mark couldn't think of anything better. He nodded briefly. He knew that his mask was useful in many situations, but this time it was suffocating him. He needed to get out of there.

Grace opened her mouth to answer, but Mark stood up interrupting her, turned to James, and ran his finger down his own neck. Then he left the mess hall, not caring much that half Rainbow and his crush saw him. Raising the volume of the music in his ears helped a lot with the latter.

"Finger on throat means death. Wooo. "Seamus imitated a Marvel character line.

"Sometimes you're as fun as myself." James smirked, then looked at Grace. "Hey, Dokkaebi! Don't worry, little Mute is like that sometimes. By the way, welcome to Rainbow. I am one of the SAS members, Smoke. "

And that was the trigger for everyone to know each other.

* * *

Mark was looking at Seamus, listening to the story with the empty expression of his gas mask.

"That wasn't the song I was listening to." He leaned on the back of his seat, crossing his arms.

"Does that matter?" Seamus smiled. He was satisfied with himself.

"Hm hm. That explains a lot." said Mike. He had listened to all of Seamus' story with his two hands over his nose, one forming a fist and the other covering it. "I have another one, if you let me."

"Oh? I'm all ears, old man. Sadly James isn't here. He'd love to hear some of Mark's escapades." Seamus mimicked Mike's expression.

Mark didn't even bother to answer. He knew his opinion wasn't necessary at all.

* * *

A couple of days ago, James and Seamus had been deployed in Italy, along with several other Rainbow operators. The main mission of the three teams was to take down a mafia boss, but each with a different mission in the field.

Far from there, the SAS' room had become paradise for Mark. He was all alone and with no disturbance. The old man had left early in the morning, to torture recruits in training.

The rooms of Seamus and James were unlocked for the simple fact that SAS had already lived so long together that there was nothing to hide. Well, almost.

Lesion was still the only one who knew the canisters' recipe, besides James himself.

Mike always had his door locked, but he wasn't that interesting to break into his room anyway. He only kept photos of his ship and his life being a soldier.

It was still early in the morning. Mark was sitting in the small living room's large sofa, with his feet on the small table in the center, and still wearing his pajamas. He had Seamus' laptop on a pillow on his lap. The scotsman had an incredible video games collection in it, so he chose a random one, and started playing.

An hour and a half later, shots were heard from the laptop along with the phrase:

"It's time for the Lance Vance Dance!"

He was very focused on what he was doing, so he ignored a sudden vibration at the door. He thought for a moment that it was Dominic's cat, but then he heard the clear knocking sound.

Mark paused the game, and looked at the door. Who could it be? The social ones from the SAS were out on duty and it was known by all Rainbow that Mike woke up early to comply his work as a recruit's instructor. By default, it was obvious he was the only one who could be inside.

The only ones who had spoken with him outside of work stuff had been with Emma and Masaru, but both were out as well. Although he had a nice and silent relationship with Taina, it didn't cross Mark's mind that she was the one outside.

After awhile, he thought the one outside had given up, and resumed his game, but a very annoying sound came out of nowhere.

On his right, his phone started vibrating and ringing like crazy, something he didn't understand because he had it always in mute mode. The image he saw was the same one Grace used as an operator, and it laughed, apparently. That annoyed the young brit and it took him a few seconds to turn it off.

"Haha. Come on, open the door! I don't bite, unless you provoke me."

It was HER voice. The one he followed secretly. He felt his heart beating a little faster. Grace Nam was outside. He began to feel fear. He hadn't spoken to her yet despite four months had already passed since he met her.

What was he going to tell her? He had no idea how to talk to women. For the first time, it seemed like a good idea to go out with the guys one weekend to see how they did it in a random bar.

He went to change quickly and changed from pajamas to his daily clothes in less than a minute. While he washed, she knocked again.

"I don't like waiting, you know? Hibana's still around, maybe I..." her voice sounded with less emotion than before.

Mark picked up his gas mask from his bedside table and took a deep breath to encourage himself, and put the mask on. He went to the door and opened it.

She was leaning her back at the side of the door, watching something on her tablet. In one of the pockets of her vest she had a magazine that was familiar.

"Mute, right?" She turned around and put her tablet back in her vest. "Oh, you're wearing the mask? Of course, it's you. Nice to meet you."

Mark felt his ability to speak was gone. He nodded, fixing his eyes on her.

"Well, this is yours." Grace took out the magazine she had borrowed when she arrived to Rainbow. "I found it while cleaning my room. It's taking a long time to the others to get back, huh?"

The young brit extended his arm and when he was about to take it, she moved, out of reach.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Though I've seen you talking to Sledge and Smoke a lot..."

Mark was exploding inside gas mask. Again tried to take the magazine, but she dodged his grab. A sudden desire made him want to get closer to her and at least feel what it was like to touch her, nothing more. Maybe to smell her perfume too, but his gas mask made the idea sound silly. He rather had it on, to have his face exposed.

He had another great idea to immobilize her and take away the magazine. So many hours of CQC with James wasn't going to be a waste.

He shook his head. No, better not.

"Not going to answer? Fine. I'm bored, I can be around here annoying you all day." She made a wry smile that made the brit's eyes sparkle.

"I don't like to talk." murmured Mark, nervous.

"Then you're a man of action? Show me then." She showed the magazine in front of his face. "Take it from me."

Mark raised an eyebrow. It seemed that learning James' techniques wasn't going to be in vain. But he stopped himself, self-conscious. What he was about to do?

"Ah, fuck it." Mark mumbled to himself.

He quickly stepped forward and feinted to go for the item with his right hand, but he went for her wrist with the other. When she wanted to let go, forcing her way out of the grab, he took advantage of it, and made her turn around, as if they were dancing. He noticed a lot of open spots on her legs, but felt unnecessary, as she seemed to not putting any real resistance. She could attack him in any moment, and he was ready for that, but her reaction never came.

Applying little pressure, he forced her to release the magazine and it fell to the ground. Apparently he had take her by surprise, but it was obvious he didn't. She blinked a couple of times, looking straight to his eyes behind the visor.

He released her as soon as he had the chance. Was she just messing around?

"Sorry, I ..." He felt really bad.

He picked up the magazine from the floor and quickly returned to the entrance to the SAS door.

"Wow, I didn't think you had it on you. Nice moves." Grace raised both eyebrows, and giggled.

For a few seconds they stared at each other without saying anything, again.

"Well, that was all I had to do here." She took her tablet out from her vest, and started to walk off.

"You should try to talk more, Mute." She flinched. "Haha, how weird that sounds. Bye-bye."

Mark saw her as she left, stunned. Grace was astonishing in every way.

In his daydream, a door hinge sounded behind him, interrupting. The door to Mike's room was open and there was an open water tap's sound from the bathroom. That was strange. But there was only one logical explanation: Mike had never left.

Mark went back into the SAS room, and sat back in the couch, waiting for the one who was in the bathroom to come out. Sure enough, it was Mike, who was changed into his daily clothes.

"Morning, I didn't know you were still here, old man."

"I left Tachanka in charge for today, needed the sleep. By the way, I saw Dokkaebi outside. What did she want, lad?

"Nothing, she just wanted to return this." He showed Mike the magazine.

"Just that? Oh, ok."

"Do you know if James and Seamus are still alive?"

"Alive and kicking."

"Got damn."

* * *

"Wow, I didn't know that, Marky. Good one there." Seamus have him a 'not bad' face.

Mark growled. The old man promised not to tell anyone about that.

"At least we now know you can talk to girls. We should thank Twitch one of these days." continued the scotsman, putting a hand on his chin. "The minus one percent progress will advance up to one percent."

"Wouldn't it be better if you let Chandar get the girl by himself?" Mike suggested.

"It's been a year without doing much. It seems he need a little push, old man."

Mark continued with the empty expression of his gas mask. Apparently, in addition to the cactus, Seamus and James were thinking of something else.

" 'kay, I'm going to help your noble crusade of 'making Mark a winner', but if something goes wrong, all the blame will fall on you. Porter is a potential idiot." The old man snickered.

"James wouldn't mind having another threatening memo from Six." Seamus shrugged.

"Speaking of me behind my back. Oooh, this must be spicy to say the least."

The three occupants of the table turned and saw James approaching and sat next to Seamus. Mark looked around. He had been so engrossed in listening to Mike that he didn't notice the cafeteria was a bit crowded now. He quickly looked for Grace, but she wasn't here yet.

The trays of food were still shining clean, and the germans still didn't come out, but at least everyone could smell the prepared food.

"Didn't you think of anything better than a cactus, dude?" Seamus gave James a disappointed look as he settled back into his seat.

"It wasn't a bad idea, but almost went wrong, Haha."

"I dunno why I expected that answer. You know if Dokkaebi already saw it?"

"Yep, she's bringing it here." James looked at Mark, who looked at the exit as soon as he heard the last sentence. "Chandar, you're going to stay here, even if I need to tie you up. Don't be a whining little pussy."

"Hey, hey, quiet, boys." Mike spoke up, hitting slightly the table.

"If he doesn't flee like an coward, we'll be fine." James cleared his throat. "I was also thinking about a second part of the plan for today."

"Porter, if it's what I said yesterday, I was only joking, uh..."

"Shush! You need to believe, Seamus, this goes for our Marky!" James put his fist in the air at the center of the table, waiting for the others to do so.

"For Marky." Seamus nodded to the young brit, who kept his expression blank, and put his fist next to James'.

"I have no idea what you are up to, ut I still have expectations for this lad." Mike chuckled, and hugged Mark with his left arm. Then he raised his fist. "For Marky."

The young brit looked at the three of them. What strange idea had Seamus had? He trusted the scotsman enough, but he wasn't sure.

Deeply, Mark was a bit happy because if he went alone again it would take an eternity to talk to her normally. However, if it were a James' idea, he would've refused instantly.

"For Mark." he murmured, almost emotionless, and bumped his fist with the other three.

Each one returned to his position in each seat. James automatically took out his cell phone and started typing messages in a furious and confused way. Seamus' vest pocket began to vibrate several times. Mike's too. Both took out their phones.

They both read the screen, and looked with the same expression at the short brit.

"Seriously? Can't it be just in-chat?" Seamus raised an eyebrow.

"Doing this through chat is for losers. You ready?"

"Nope, not yet. And why am I the one starting this thing? " Mike narrowed his left eye.

"Because you're the high rank, duh!" James answered, frowning.

"That doesn't make sense, Porter. Anyway, it's for the sake of the operation."

That being said, Mike stood up and went to where Jordan was talking to Eliza.

Mark didn't understand anything, but many times it was like that, so he chose not to ask.

"Hey." Seamus snapped his fingers and pointed at the door.

The young brit turned and his heart skipped to beat. Grace entered the café talking with Elena, and Timur behind them. In her hands she carried the cactus, which looked happy with its new owner.

"I'm not having lunch today." Mark sighed, just then his stomach growled.

"Don't make me take off your mask, Chandar." James threatened, his voice a little more serious than usual.

"Uh, better listen to him." Seamus suggested.

Mark, reluctantly, already had both hands on his mask to take it off, and realized that Grace was gazing at him, while Elena and Timur were looking for a free seat.

"This is goin' to be good." Seamus blurted out, glancing at Grace, and then Mark, expectantly.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N.: Yes, I'm not dead. Very, very late update, sorry.**

* * *

Grace didn't really know what to think. Mark's gaze was so lost that sometimes she didn't know if he really was looking at her or if he was checking the wall that was just behind her.

The food still seemed to be a mystery. The germans, after Monika's reprimand ended, had remained silent.

She could hear something about a hang out from the Hard Breachers and Eliza's table. Baker didn't like to go outside the base unless he went to see his beloved ship.

"Caught something interesting?" She asked Elena, who was in front of her.

"Nope. I don't think any word would be 'interesting' if Thatcher is the one who is talking, my dear."

"Hm..."

Grace just eyed her tablet, and nothing were good enough to see. Her own feminine intuition told her what the old SAS member involved her. Especially when she heard 'korean' briefly. He wasn't subtle, not even little.

"Tell me this time you did listen." she asked Elena again, who was looking in detail at the cactus. She touched one of the thorns, and quickly fell back, giggling as her light brown hair moved softly.

"I don't know what you expect me to hear, Gracey. Surely he is talking about some torture done to rookies. By the way, why did you remove the Mark's dedication?"

"Because... someone could see it."

"And..?"

"And Mark would be even more afraid of me if he gets annoyed. I'd to like to get a little more than eye contact, you know?"

"Huh. We are not teenagers, Grace. A man must show interest and get close to a woman on his own. A lady's attention isn't gained by just staring."

"What do you know, Mira?"

Timur, who was drawing a sketch on his art blog, looked up.

"Love... Uh, I think it's very complicated to say what it is without having lunch." Mira shrugged. "What do you think, Glaz?"

"Uh, I believe that romantic love is simply to seek the best for someone else and at the same time for oneself." he replied, and continued making strokes with his pencil.

"Simple and direct. Nice, I like it."

"Thank you. I wasn't talking about love, but thanks. I think." Grace nodded, forcing a smile.

It was going to be complicated for Mark to do something. Since the incident in the workshop where Masaru was the third wheel, the young brit hadn't spoken to her. She didn't understand why it was so complicated to ask her out if it was more than obvious that she was going to say yes.

"Hey, do you think Mute is a virgin?" Elena suddenly whispered, approaching to Grace as she lightly pushed the cactus from the center of her table to her side.

"According to what I heard from Porter, he's never had a girlfriend."

"Neither boyfriend, right? Haha!"

"Why do you mention it?"

"Because I have never caught him looking at your butt or chest. Nor Ela's curves. Not even anyone's."

"Wow. Is that really a bad sign?"

"Not looking at a woman's curves doesn't mean being gay or a virgin." Glaz muttered without looking at them.

"It's a sacred male ritual!" Elena replied exasperated.

"Do you mean look at hips and chest to check "maternal qualities"?"

"Yes, that!"

"I think I know why he doesn't do it. Last year, on Porter's birthday, he mentioned that when Mark was a teenager, he was checking a lady's ass on the street, who in the end her booming voice showed that she was a drag queen or something like that. He was traumatized in such a way he never looked at anyone again."

Grace and Elena laughed.

"But I think it's obvious we are women by birth, Timur."

"Yes, but nothing will take that memory away from him, Mira."

"And how often do you check Cavi's butt, huh?"

"I reserve that for myself." Timur focused on his sketch again.

"So... it's weird that he keeps staring at me?" Grace asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Hm, your face is pretty and you're young. I wouldn't be impressed if you had more pretenders at bay."

"Here at Rainbow? Nah. When I just got here, many wanted to try their luck." she snickered briefly. "They weren't worth it."

"Oh? By chance you remember any?" Elena put her arms on the table, suddenly interested.

"I wouldn't like to give them away. Anyway, you still don't answer my question."

"For me, it isn't rare at all to look. In any case, eyes were made for looking. What's weird is that he doesn't approach to talk to you or ask you out. It's childish if you ask me."

Grace looked over Elena's shoulder. Thatcher was still at the Hard Breachers' table, and a little further, at the SAS members' table, Seamus and James had started a card game with Mark with no gas mask just watching them.

He suddenly looked at James, wanting to tear his head off. The usual.

* * *

It had been a while and Mike yet wasn't returning to the SAS table. In a random moment, James searched the pockets of his vest, pulled out a deck of cards and left it on the table.

"Let's play." He said quietly, his tone sounding as innocent as possible.

Seamus raised an eyebrow, not trusting his words at all.

"You want to bet, right?"

"If there is nothing to lose or win, the game would be boring." James smirked.

"And what would that be? I don't want to make a fool of myself in the middle of the base. " the scotsman replied, very suspicious.

"Nah, it's something you'll like, I think. Mark, wanna join?"

The young brit glared at him.

"Oh. I almost forgot that Mark loses access to his vocal cords once his mask is out. You can still move your neck, right?" James had taken it from him a while ago.

"I'm sure he would insult you in some way if he could talk." Seamus cleared his throat.

Mark shook his head very slowly, emphasizing his movement.

"Uh huh. It's fine. I'd never be offended by a little kid. "James began handing out cards between himself and Seamus. "One game. Whoever wins will drag Mark down the base if he tries to run away. "

"Oh, that makes it interesting." Seamus grinned.

The young brit narrowed his eyes and stared at them, but didn't make any move.

Several times he had fought with James, but few had managed to defeat him. And that 'few' were the times that James himself was affected by his own canisters.

Even in some of their practices, his fellow defender had knocked him out, not on purpose, obviously.

He didn't want to lose again, at all. Grace was there. It was better to avoid the scandal anyway.

Seamus was another story. Although he could run away from him, Hereford was too small to hide. Especially that he looked like a horror movie killer with his gadget. Was he an ill-fated loser? Was he that unlucky?

"Do you have a 3?"

"No, I told you, go fishing."

Mark looked away, casually finding Grace, a few tables afar. She was chatting with Mira, who was right in front of her. Apparently they were bothering Timur, the russian artist. Suddenly, Grace started to caress the cactus' reddish flower.

He examined the thorny plant briefly. Sigh of relief. At least Grace had the delicacy of removing his letters. The one that just had his name written.

He wanted to look at her one last time before listening to the conversation his two roommates had. As if he had stepped on a claymore, as he did it, she instantly looked back at him. Grace blinked once and smiled at him.

Mark felt the temperature rise on his face, like every time it happened in the workshop. The only thing messing up the situation was that he didn't have his mask on.

He coughed to distract himself and returned to pay attention to his own table.

"You must have a 6 then!" Seamus said, slamming the table with his free hand.

"Go fishing, mate." James smiled wickedly.

"I hate you." replied the scotsman, resigned.

"I know, don't worry." The canister user noticed that Mark was looking at them. "Wanna play now? Or Dokkaebi's beautiful face dazzled you again, Marky?

"Hey, but what happens if he wins?"

"Simple, we just make him hit his own face and that's it. Do you have a 9? "

"Go fishing."

"Aye, aye."

The young brit just watched, not answering. Obviously the korean's face had dazzled him, but he was never going to tell James. At least not sober.

"Why does the old man take so long? It was a simple message!" James exclaimed, turning in his chair to look at the hard breachers' table.

Mike was still chatting with Jordan, Eliza and Yumiko. Erik was listening to them, but didn't participate in the conversation.

"I sincerely believe he's changing your words and I'd do it too. What you wrote normally would be from a creepy stalker and not someone..." Seamus looked at Mark, but seemed to find no suitable adjective. "Someone like him!"

"Well, in my defense, there are girls who, if you don't get straight to the point with them, they don't understand what you're trying to do. Do you have a 7?"

"Go fishing. What kind of girls do you get together with, huh? "Seamus said.

"I think those of the same bar we're going to, hammerboy."

"Touché. But Marky wouldn't say that. "

"So, according to you, how would he do it?"

They both looked at the young brit and laughed.

"He would say nothing. Shite, this guy is so... 'unique' that we can't even do the wingman thing properly."

"Hey, you despise my job." James faked a hurt voice.

"It's scary what your brain could think, Porter."

"Hooray. Do you have a 5?"

Seamus with a scornful gesture, let James take cards from him. The short brit grinned satisfied.

Laughter was heard standing out from the bunch of voices in the cafeteria. Mark looked away.

Mike had made Jordan and Eliza chuckle somehow. Yumiko, in front of them, looked at them with a small smile. Erik, between the noise, turned in his chair and looked towards the SAS table, but focused on Mark.

With a little curve on his lips, he directed a thumbs up and then returned to his initial position.

The young brit was surprised, and then found Yumiko's gaze, who stuck out her tongue.

He could also consider her an acquaintance, according to the many times she had dragged Masaru out of the workshop.

"Hey, Mute." It was something he could hear by just imagining the scene.

He had never answered her any greeting, but he nodded a couple of times.

"It's a 1% progress, right? Ah, damn." Mark thought, realizing that his roommates were looking at him again.

"Now are you checking out Hibana? Bold move, mate. "

"Marky is totally a stallion, huh? Do you have a 2? "

"Go fishing. Isn't she dating Echo?"

"It seems so, right? Although Hibana looks more like an older sister than a girlfriend. "

"If she hears that, you'll win a kick in the nuts."

"Haha, I know how to dodge, Cowden."

Mark looked at them both again. They seriously gave too much importance to his actions. After several years of almost ignoring his existence, are they going to follow any of his steps as Jackal would do?

After a couple of minutes, Mark saw Mike approaching as he was scrolling rapidly on his phone. No good memes to be found. Nah, He didn't even watched the screen at all. His eyes were lost on his crush.

"Done, Porter," he said as soon as he reached the table and dropped into his seat.

"It was just one thing you had to tell him, old man."

"If I'd say it directly like you, Mark would have looked like a shitty perverted stalker."

"I told you so. Do you have a 10?" Seamus interrupted.

"It's not that bad." James let two cards from his deck. "I don't think Mark will do so badly for being direct."

"I don't know where do you find such masochistic girls to accept you in their bed." Mike chuckled to himself.

"There is a bit of anything in this world."

James looked sideways at Mark. He already was looking at him. His face was bored, as usual. Then he looked like he had a brilliant idea.

"Hey old man, is there anything planned for this afternoon?"

"No. What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to borrow the VR for an experiment."

"I can't let you use it if it's not for training purpose and you know it, Smoke."

"It's to help Mark with the 'you know what'"

"Oh." Mike snickered. "Then it IS a training. If Six doesn't find out, it'll be fine with me. But only one hour, Porter."

"I think an hour will be more than enough to teach something to this idiot." James answered, aiming a quick punch to Mark's face, but he stopped in the middle and calmly returned to his seat. Mark didn't even flinch.

They spent a while in silence. The smell of freshly prepared food began to invade the cafeteria, but there was no sign of movement on the kitchen's door.

The operators began to get even more eager than they were, but word had spread about how Monika yelled at Seamus, so no one dared to knock on the door again.

At the table of SAS members, Mike had joined the game. Apparently he was also excited to drag his adopted son across the base.

"Oh! I almost forgot." James took out his cell phone and wrote a very short message. Mark could see the name to whom it was sent.

"We'll need a girl if we want the experiment to work." He winked. "And there's no better option, I think."

Mark didn't understand anything he was talking about. What do Twitch have to do with all of this? If the main mission was making him able to talk to Grace without problems, supposedly, what... Ah, it's Porter. It was better not to ask.

"Well, she replied that it could be fun." James checked his cell phone after it vibrated.

"Any girl would be lucky to have Marky's attention." Seamus grinned ironically.

Mark rolled his eyes and with no better idea, he began scroll again his phone screen, searching for something interesting.

Almost twenty minutes later, Marius, Dominic and Elias got out lined up and one after each other from the kitchens, with a giant pot each. They deposited the contents in the buffet, and the first two went to sit, letting Elias return with the pots to the kitchen. He entered and closed the door again.

Since the buffet already had personal trays for everyone to serve, the cafeteria began to have a greater movement. None clashed with anyone, as everyone knew that fighting inside Hereford base was an unnecessary waste of time and possibly blood.

Seamus was the first to serve himself. No one questioned it because the scotsman seemed to be starving. Then the rest began to served themselves quietly and returned to their table.

Mark tried to take advantage of the confusion to retrieve his gas mask, but James responded by dodging, and shaking his right index finger from side to side. He was tempted to accuse him with Mike, but honestly that was only useful when Porter was a real pain in the ass. If not, the old man would laugh, and much.

Then he decided to take a low profile and wait at the side of the cafeteria, leaning against a wall, waiting for everyone get served, and in the end just do it himself. Anyway, it was going to be enough after seeing Elias and Monika coming out with two more pots, along with the beverages.

He was reading some romance history that reminded him of all the good times he had lost in his teen ages for being superintelligent, when suddenly he saw her. His pupils dilated and his heart began to beat fast. Again.

Grace was there, standing in front of him. As always, she wore her hair tied in two braids, highlighting the white strands that characterized her. She had taken off her beanie, but the rest of her clothes were the usual ones. Only in summer he had seen her with those suspenders. It didn't matter at all. She would look beautiful anyway.

Mark took an instant look at her entire body, then looked away at his own cell phone, trying to ignore her existence. It was frustrating being Mark Chandar.

However, something he honestly didn't expect, completely messed him up.

Grace tiptoed, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then simply said:

"Thank you."

With a sheepish smile, something totally unusual in her, she left behind Elena, who had apparently been waiting for her all along. He followed her with his eyes as she left, while the spanish defender gave him a smile of approval.

A few seconds later he felt as if something was burning his cheeks. More intensely in the place where she had kissed him. Her lips didn't have that side effect, did they?

He waited for Grace to return to her table, and went to serve himself, trying not to get anyone's attention. Despite this, many operators greeted him and laughed at him slightly, without causing a collective mockery.

Still feeling the heat, he served his food as quickly as he could. Already about to grab his drink, which was a simple lemonade, he met Taina's gaze, whom he greeted with a small nod, as usual. She replied with the same, but curved a small smile, something not very common in her.

Mark wanted to ask what could make the bitter brazilian interrogator laugh, but his ability to articulate words had not yet returned. So he only raised an eyebrow.

Taina in response, gave Mark a slight hit on his shoulder, then grabbed her tray of food and left, but not before whispering:

"Nice one, doggo."

"Dog?" thought Mark. He wanted to understand what Taina said, but she had already returned to her lonely table.

Without further ado, and avoiding uncomfortable glances, he returned to the table of SAS members, where Seamus had already finished half of his meal.

"Hey, handsome. She left some lipstick on your cheek." James said with a mischievous smile.

Mark let out a small snort, automatically rubbing the place where Grace had kissed him.

"You have no lipstick, son. But well done. I think you're not necessary anymore, Porter." Mike clarified, before taking sips of his lemonade.

"Not so fast, old man. If I hadn't taken away his mask, Dokkaebi wouldn't have approached him." James replied. "Have your hormones swarmed you, little one?"

Mark looked at him. In part he was right, Grace would have kissed plastic if his beloved mask were on. Only if the kiss were given, something that was very unlikely. He had controlled his reactions well, according to himself. Under normal circumstances, he would have fled to eat in his room, but he was still there, without his protection for the outside world, and still couldn't speak a single word. Not everything could go smoothly.

He blinked a couple of times and concentrated on his food. He had nothing to answer to his fellow defender.

"If that's your way of being appreciative, you're welcome." James shrugged and continued eating where he had left it.

"You are doing a lot of show for a kiss on the cheek. This looks like a high school show." Seamus commented, after swallowing a large bite he had taken.

"So it seems like one, huh? It makes me feel young again."

* * *

Lunch passed without major incidents. Although Mark couldn't keep Grace's kiss away from his thoughts, Seamus' comment was true, he was overthinking a simple act between two people.

Was it that simple? Really, was it? He didn't know what value the korean would give it. Nor could he get that shy smile away from his mind. What was going on? Was that the clue he needed to asking her out of nowhere? The insurance to not be rejected instantly? Or was it just an incomplete smile?

"Hey, Marky. You alright? You look pale." Seamus asked, having finished eating a while ago.

Mark came back to himself. He waved his hand to minimize the worries.

"I guess. You can always go see Doc if you feel sick. I'll go get a nap, see you at three."

"The plan was at three? Oh, ok. See you then." James replied as he finished the last of his tray.

"The earlier the better. It's likely that we'll take even more than an hour." Seamus said as he walked away, finally leaving the cafeteria.

"I don't think the old man would be bothered."

Mike, just came back from leaving his tray of food for cleaning in the dishwasher.

"If it's an hour and a minute, I could ignore it. If it's more, not." He warned menacingly. "I know you hate paperwork, Porter. Who knows what might happen."

"A delicious threat to start the afternoon, thanks old man." James replied wryly.

"You're welcome. See you later."

That said, Mike left. There were already few operators left in the cafe. Most were the ones that arrived late.

"Well, I also have things to do." James commented, although there was only Mark as a possible member of a conversation, but he only had his boring gaze on him.

"Do you have something to tell me? I'm not Grace, so you can talk to me, Marky."

Mark snorted. Seriously James was a nuisance.

"I need my mask, idiot." he whispered, with much effort.

"I've barely heard you, what...?"

While James responded, Mark stood up and retrieved his mask, looking extremely inexpressive, but it seemed more like the canister lover let him take it.

"Amazing. We just noticed that you can talk without an unnecessary object. Another progress, Marky." James took his empty tray and took it away. When he returned he stopped at Emma's table, who was still eating while talking to Julien. He talked to her for less than ten seconds and she nodded at the end.

Mark, putting on his gas mask again, finally felt in his comfort zone, breathing deeply to give himself a bit of drama.

"Three in the afternoon in the VR room." Porter told him when he returned to his table.

"I can't refuse, can I?"

"Do you have anything better to do? Not including your jammer?"

"I guess you don't either."

"You can't complain." He approached so that the rest wouldn't listen. "We are so close to the prize!"

"She is not an prize, Porter. She is a woman."

"I meant the date itself, not her. But I like how you are defending her, Mark. Nice going."

"Uh... Okay, I'll go. In return, stop doing unnecessary shows, please."

James bowed as promise, not even bothering to hide the irony of his smile, and left, at a light pace.

There were still two hours. What would he do in two hours? He hadn't touched his jammer in several days, but he didn't feel like going to the workshop. Nor was he a fan of physical exercise. It seems like it was going to be another afternoon watching some random things on his cell phone.

* * *

It had already been twenty minutes being in the living room. Only he was there, enjoying the breeze coming from a window. He had his mask next to him, for the fact that it was totally unnecessary to wear it if there was no one around to show inexpression.

For a moment he remembered Marius' birthday, and then wondered how, being elite soldiers, they could enjoy social events like any other human being.

He recalled his first real-field mission. He was forced to kill a terrorist member in order to avoid his own death. He wasn't sorry that he had just killed a madman, but the act itself, of taking his life. If he hadn't be able to control himself, he would had ended up throwing up inside his gas mask.

One of his squadmates had to hit him on the head hard enough so he could recover from dizziness quickly.

In the course of many missions, he noticed that a lot of his teammates had lost their social capacity in themselves, but they became very skilled at work. Skilled at killing senselessly.

So the cost of doing this job well was totally losing social skills. Mark had never been good at making friends, so he didn't care at all. However, he took that to exorbitant levels, until he earned his own code name and never removed his gas mask.

When he arrived to Rainbow, he had only spoken with Thatcher before. He had never seen the other two. He only knew that Sledge used a hammer and Smoke was a troublemaker. Nor was it that he cared too much, when he was a private, he also shared a room. Only these were weird compared to his previous roommates.

There was a certain social environment between them instead of ignoring each other. Especially Porter who seemed to talk to some of the members of the other teams. It was known that Cowden went out to bars on free weekends, and Baker was the boss, having to receive reports every week, paperwork and other boring stuff, even for Mark.

He couldn't understand them. He supposed everyone had their own way of dealing with the burden. The burden of killing.

What was Grace's way? Her super elaborated cruel pranks?

He remembered Taina. He understood her the best in that way because they were almost identical. Although he himself wasn't an interrogator / torturer.

Timur's way was obviously drawing or painting. The rest were a mystery. Although it could be said that they would have become accustomed to that kind of work with time, it could never be 100% assured.

Pulling the trigger was always going to be hard.

He could spend more time thinking, but he preferred to look for some good mix of music to hear. Just when he had chosen some Synthwave so he could rest on the couch, he heard footsteps approaching.

Leaving his earphones on, he put on the gas mask again, then looked towards the entrance.

Yumiko made a sudden appearance, and stopped at his side.

"Hey, Mute." she gave a slight punch with her fist on his shoulder. Her usual greeting.

"Hibana." He nodded.

This scenario was so repeated that it seemed he was dealing with Grace. Now that he thought about it, both were similar. So why was he attracted to the korean girl and not to her? How weird. Maybe it was the magic of fake glasses.

Mark shook his head. He was thinking stupidly. He turned the volume up to the music and saw Yumiko interact with the big TV that was on the opposite. Several red letters appeared together forming the word "Netflix". The japanese attacker dropped herself to the other end of the sofa where Mark was, and started looking for something to watch.

The young brit raised an eyebrow. Normally the operators who had this kind of hobby did it in the comfort of their rooms. However, he decided not to intrude. He closed his eyes and focused on the music.

After five minutes, he gave up. He couldn't connect at all with the calm sound.

He opened his eyes. Yumiko was watching some series related to heaven, hell and things like that. He turned off the music and removed his earphones, and started watching. Apparently the serie ended up entertaining him, but the background story was still missing so he did not fully understand.

When the chapter ended, Yumiko, who had laughed at even the bad jokes, looked at him.

"I didn't know you were into Netflix series, Mute."

"I am not. I've only seen this one. It's good, I guess."

"Well, I plan to watch as long as I can today. If you want you can stay with me."

He nodded, focusing on the TV again.

* * *

After an hour, Mark and Yumiko were still watching the same series, expectant of what might happen. They had talked more than ever, although this refers to a few words in the case of the young brit asking background story questions. Not enough to make himself a nuisance.

In a random moment, Yumiko took the remote control and paused.

"You're behind Grace, right?"

"..." Mark was caught off guard, but his defense reflex was silence.

"Ha. I don't blame you, you wouldn't be the first. But you would be a good match."

"Uh... Thanks?"

"I don't know you that much, but your presence isn't as irritating as I thought, and you are even more patient than Masaru. With that features, you already passed a very high fence. If you had brought me something to drink I would have considered going out with you. No kidding."

Mark let out a slight chuckle.

"Just ask her out. It's nothing from the other world, and you might get a surprise."

He had heard that several times, but it was the first time a woman had told him. Without much to answer, he nodded.

Yumiko shrugged and pressed the play button.

They were watching for a while longer, when suddenly Mark's cell phone vibrated. It was a message from James.

"VR room. Now."

He recalled the master plan. He wasn't too excited, but somehow he had to get close to Grace. Well, somehow not directly influenced by his roommate.

"Omw." He replied, putting his cell in his pocket.

He stood up, made a slight bow of thanks to Yumiko, and left the living room. He couldn't help feeling bothered with himself when he found connection to the music instantly when he turned it on again. The section he had to walk was less than a minute trip, but enough to be nostalgic for the song itself. Nostalgia for something he hadn't lived yet. Like love.

The VR room was on the first floor, near the workshop. Normally the door was closed, because no one without authorization could use it. Although in theory it was available to anyone who wants to practice, the old man was in charge and did the exact opposite.

The only program Mark had seen was that of the 5 vs. 5 matches where he and four other defenders fought against five attackers for victory, either by hostage rescue, securing area and bomb.

He honestly hated to see Moni destroyed, even if it was only data sent through his sense of sight to his brain, so he didn't pay much attention on the days he have to attend this kind of practice.

It was also worse when he had Bandit or Kaid on his team. The old man annoyed him enough when he was on the opposite team.

When he saw the door half-closed he took off his earphones, beginning to hear voices. Mark decided to look out, as if to avoid interrupting something.

"You tell me that it doesn't work now, Echo? We have only one hour, mate!"

"It's not my fault, Porter. Give me at least a little while to see if I can solve it."

"How much? One minute? Two, maybe?"

"Five. Maybe ten."

"Ah, this is horrible."

The room was somewhat big. It had enough space for two booths, each with space for up to five people, and for these five to have no problem using headsets and other devices.

Between the two booths, there was a control PC, which was small, but connected with a powerful projector capable to transmit the entire image big enough to be like a cinema. The image was projected from it, just by the ceiling, in the middle of the separation of the VR teams' booth, allowing the image to be seen by the controller.

From there the environment, missions, actions and other participants in the practice were managed. Normally Masaru was in charge, but if he was elected to participate in a match, he'd just leave everything ready and take part of the test. It was nothing complicated, but it was preferable for an expert to handle it.

There was nothing else in the room, besides a couple of windows, furniture for those who wanted to appreciate the practice and a water jar on a table.

Emma and Seamus were sitting in one of the couches, watching the discussion of the other two operators. In fact, only her, because Seamus was asleep with his head tilted back, snoring softly.

Masaru was sitting in front of the control PC. He was typing quickly on the keyboard and looking for something in the screen, like a professional programmer. James was on his side, visibly annoyed, throwing upwards and catching one of his canisters with the same hand.

"Are you sure it's not a problem with the program?"

"I already told you it isn't. It's a compatibility issue. Something has been misconfigured and I can't find it."

"Well, shit." James looked at the door and found Mark, changing his face automatically.

"Finally, you decided to show up!"

"You told me to come, Porter."

"And thanks for doing it. I didn't feel like dragging you."

"What's the matter? I know some programming." Mark offered.

"Hm..." James was reluctant to answer.

"I have trouble with the custom background sound working correctly. The rest works." Masaru spoke aloud, still typing.

"And is music that really important for what you want to do?" Marked asked.

"Of course." James replied, covering some of his annoyance with his usual smile.

"What do you want to do? If I may ask."

"Not yet. When we have the headset on, the two of you will know."

"Uh huh."

Mark went to sit between Seamus and Emma, greeting the latter with a friendly bump.

"Porter doesn't want to tell me what this is about. Enatsu already knows, huh?."

"If he's messing inside the program I take it for granted."

"Do you think it's going to be something weird? I'm the only girl here."

"I doubt it. Masaru is too serious for that."

"Haha, I was just kidding. I doubt you would be involved in that kind of thing either."

"Nope."

They both stared at the empty image of the projector. When it wasn't about VR, it only maintained a dark blue image with white letters that said "No signal".

"Ah, finally, I found it."

"What was it?"

"There were many endings missing throughout the sequence. Already fixed it."

"I never had doubts about you, Echo."

"Yes, yes, I know. Leave the sentimentalism apart and let's start."

"Guys, wake up. Put on the headsets as if it were normal VR and let Echo know when you're ready." James said with a command tone.

"Finally? Wait, how much did I sleep?" Seamus looked everywhere, suddenly being woken up.

"Half an hour I think, Sledge." Emma answered, looking suddenly to her painted nails.

"Ah, enough for awhile. Let's go at once."

The three stood up and saw himself was already wearing a VR headset, turned on. He was on the first in the attackers booth.

"Isn't Porter a defender?"

"Sledge you will go with the defenders with Mute." Masaru indicated from his pc. "Twitch, you'll go with Porter."

"Roger that."

When they were ready, they did like any VR test, giving the signal with a thumb up. Everyone's headsets glowed more intensely than before and almost instantly, an expression of surprise could be seen from his nose down to their jaw.

Masaru's victory smirk was wide, as he watched his achievement from his comfortable seat.

* * *

 **A.N.: Hi everyone. Sorry for the filler-kind chapter. I had a lot going on in my life, and I almost forgot this existed lol. Anyway, I suddenly remembered and tried to write a chapter as fast as I could and translate it even faster. Surprise, surprise: My first language isn't English. I'll try to update sooner now that I have more time, but I don't promise anything.**

 **Hope to see you soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Huh. It looks better than the frigging Theme park."

The feeling of the VR tests was always the same. The view changed from time to time with certain content updates, making it look a lot more realistic. And little things too, like Tachanka's little figurines.

Even if they had to focus on the mission at hand, nice details were good to see.

"It's, it's... what's the word..." He took a brief pause. "Aesthetic! Just what you like, huh?"

Mark tried to move, but got distracted. Seamus' comment was true. The sky had a combination of pink, violet and purple that made it relaxing to look at, and the moon looked yellow in the distance on the horizon, as if it were a lunar eclipse. Under this there was a city's black shape, contrasting all the colors in the sky.

It kinda felt like night, but lights were bright enough to drive away total darkness.

He heard a car engine starting, and quickly looked where Seamus was. He had an unusual normal expression with a cigarette between his lips. He held the steering wheel with only one hand, and the other was tuning into different radio stations. Then he stopped, grabbed the cigarette between his fingers and freed the smoke he had in his lungs.

"Oooh, this is a nice one."

" _This is Fever 105_..." a deep voice announced. Mark could swear he heard it somewhere before, but couldn't remember where.

He saw all the scenery behind Seamus began to move. Then looked ahead, the city started look near with every second that passed.

It felt cozy with the sight, hear and touching senses, but he knew he was sitting on something comfortable outside this whole reality.

He took a quick look of his own hands. He had a pair of mittens on each, letting his fingers roam free. Well, as free as they could. It seemed very detailed, could detect even his small fingerprints. He tried to change weapons as he normally did in the tests, but his HUD denied the request, only showing his fists and some weird badge.

"Uh. I don't plan to face Porter unarmed, Seamus." He turned to see the car driver.

Now that he examined his face, Seamus seemed to have been rejuvenated a decade, as if he was in the middle of his twenties. He wore a black shirt with beige trousers. On his left wrist he had a golden watch, probably a extremely expensive one.

"We beat the shit out of Porter with that badge, and we win I guess. I also got one."

"You look like a high schooler, Sledge." Mark curved a small smile. "Is VR here supposed to change our looks?"

"Dunno, but I'm still more handsome than you." Seamus looked away from the road to see him. "Ha. You look like Porter said. Ridiculously cute."

He moved just enough to see his appearance through the rearview mirror. Mark looked exactly the same in his 19 years old. It was nice as he examined himself, although it was only a scanned image.

"What kind of VR test is this? My HUD's acting weird." He said as he tried to change weapons, only managing to take out the badge.

"We don't need guns here, dumbass. Have you ever been in a party?"

"What do you mean?" Mark raised an eyebrow and turned to him.

"What you heard. In your teens did you go to a party?" Seamus grabbed his cigarette again.

"No. None so far."

"Ah... Well, we made you one. The closest to reality."

"Wouldn't it be better if you just took me to a pub and get to know random women?"

"We've tried for years, and we just need you to know how to talk properly. Not to get in her pants. But that's the goal nevertheless.

"Uh. Ok."

"Inviting her to dance and stuff."

"Wut."

"Social interactions Mark. It's something you'll need if you sincerely want that girl."

"I know. I don't know how to do that, that's all." He was repeating that sentence many times today.

"Well, that's the purpose of this." The song changed. "Oooh, the legendary Saturday Night."

Mark liked disco music, so he didn't mind Seamus increasing the volume a little bit.

"Damn, this kind of music reminds me of my sadly gone youth." Seamus wiped away an imaginary tear.

"You're not driving anything, right?"

"No, I'm just enjoying the aesthetic view. Haha, I like that word." He started humming and moved his shoulders rhythmically.

Mark just noticed his entire HUD had disappeared. Neither the 2 vs 2, nor his operator image nor Seamus' hammer were noticed on the little tower's team. He didn't bother to ask again, and just went with it.

He examined now the badge. It was a police one, along with his name as a identification. It seemed to be useful.

They arrived to the city. There was an 80's theme everywhere, which didn't look that bad. Despite people dressed like Travolta did in that movies didn't really exist by now, he could imagine how clothing fashion was at that time.

"Right on the sweet nostalgia, don't you think?" Seamus commented, turning around a corner.

Mark hadn't experienced the 80's, but he didn't dislike retro. Plus, sometimes he considered it was the best time for music. God bless the feelings the Synthwave could give.

They arrived at a entertainment establishment, which looked modern in comparison with the theme outside.

The entrance had a sign with bright letters that said: " **Malibu** " with a small palm tree and coconuts on each side. Underneath was a reflecting glass door, with two guards stationed, one looking menacing with his dark glasses and dark suit, and the other with a list in his hand and a thick cord blocking the entrance, which he opened to let the guests in.

Seamus stopped the car just in front of it, turned off the car and grabbed the keys.

"Let's go at once. We only have one hour." Seamus said, getting out, calling a valet who was nearby. Mark nodded and followed him.

The car was a Chevy, but he wasn't an expert, so it could be from any year. A valet dressed in red arrived quickly and respectfully greeting both of them, and caught the keys as Seamus threw them at him.

"Nice detail." he murmured, as they went to the entrance.

There were plenty of people there, lining up for some reason.

"If you are not on the list you will not enter." said one of the guards looking at the unlucky guy who was first on the line, with a menacing face. "Don't waste my time, mister."

Not caring much about the scene, Seamus ignored the line and stood next to the scared nameless man. The guard automatically changed his face to a smile.

"Mr. Cowden! We were waiting for you." He immediately removed the cord, but hesitated when he saw Mark. "Isn't he a little young to enter?"

Either one of the two, or the program was perfect, or all this was rehearsed. The second seemed more likely.

"He's a colleague of mine. Don't worry, mate, he's even older than myself." Seamus replied, discreetly sliding an obvious digital bill into the pocket of the guard's shirt.

"Have fun." the guard winked at him, letting them pass.

"I could show him the badge and get inside." Mark whispered to Seamus.

"It's not a nice idea to show everyone you are cop. It's a double edged weapon around here."

Mark followed his roommate inside the establishment. He frowned as he noticed Seamus new what it was from the beginning.

The first part of the building had no roof, showing the coloured sky. There were a few people there, who were enjoying music, in and next to a pool, full of virtual water. Others drank some kind of liquor, sitting on the grass, with an empty smile.

Both sections separated by a path of stones in the middle, which led to the real establishment, where the psychedelic lights were noticeable and where the music came from.

"Haha, the wonderful world of vice." Seamus said, speeding up the pace. "Strange, you can speak. You took off your mask to get in, right?"

"Obviously. How am I going to put the headset with that thing on top?"

"Just annoying you. We're here."

Seamus opened the door and gave way to Mark.

"Thank you." said the young brit sarcastically.

The spectacle inside was what he imagined. People dancing as a couple, in a group, or drinking near the bar. There were also those who did both at the same time, and those who were giving love without any objection.

"Uh... What do we do now?" Mark asked, looking around.

"Have no clue. Let's go to the bar first." Seamus asked pointing his head in that way.

Both went there, avoiding colliding with the crowd, and sat on stools, next to each other. The bar was huge, with a lot of types of liquor he didn't knew that existed. A guy with a beard and long brown hair was silently cleaning a glass cup with a handkerchief, enjoying the music.

"The same as always, Mr. Seamus?" the bartender asked him, as he noticed his presence.

"Yes, yes. Please, serve this fella something really strong. He is going to do a life-changing-thing today."

"Understood." He replied, chuckling, leaving the glass in front of Seamus, putting some ice cubes and serving him from a bottle that was just beside him. Then he left.

"A pity that this drunkenness isn't real, nor this rum." the scotsman toasted silently, then took it all in one sip, leaving the glass with a low clink on the bar.

"Uh..." Mark wasn't sure about he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh. Do you see that girl over there with the blue dress and gorgeous ass?" Seamus pointed with his head to the crowd, turning a little bit.

"The one with the ponytail? Yes." The young brit saw a girl dressed in blue, dancing gracefully. He hardly couldn't see her.

"You have to invite her to dance, or ask her out."

"Ah, ok."

The bartender had arrived with a bottle with liquid similar to the one before, but it had the appearance of being a much stronger drink.

"My friend Johnnie Walker. Good choice." Seamus clapped slightly.

"May I fill your glass too, sir?"

"Thank you." He lifted his glass to the bartender.

Once served, the bartender went to attend a couple who had just entered the bar.

"That one with the ponytail... isn't she Emma?" said Mark, without even touching his drink.

Seamus began to sing distractedly, already having his glass empty. He was dodging the question.

"It's impossible for you to get drunk, Seamus." Mark rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"No, but your brain does the job. Try it."

"Hm..."

Mark examined the brown liquid in the glass. He didn't considered it refreshing at all. However, that thought slightly reminded him of something: That drink wasn't real. He drank it quickly.

"Wow, wow, not so fast, man." Seamus laughed.

His eyesight went blurry for a few seconds and then came back to normal. He felt a bit of his blood go through his muscles.

"Your mind deceives you, doesn't it?"

"Answer me. Is Emma the ponytail girl?"

"Dunno, to tell the truth. She looks very pretty, doesn't she?"

"And how am I going to invite her to dance if she's dancing with another guy?" Mark, said in a confused frown, just noticing her laughing with the man in front of her.

"You better take another of these." Seamus pointed to his empty glass.

"I don't think it has any effect on myself."

"Hey, bartender! Another round."

Before he was tempted to drink another whiskey, Mark stood up to approach the girl. He had to learn. He had to do it. If he failed, well it wasn't going to be the first time, or the last.

As he approached slowly to the ponytail girl, another girl blocked him. She had blonde hair and a wide smile. She suddenly took his hands, surprising him.

"Hey! Let's dance, pretty boy!" she said, as she moved to the rhythm of the music.

Despite he knew she wasn't real, he didn't know how to run away. Wait. If she was Twitch and the ponytail girl was a random mob? Damn it.

Mark tried to move as best he could with the VR controls, but honestly he didn't know even how to dance in real life. He tried his best while that song lasted, until she let him go. She probably got bored because he didn't speak to her during the whole piece.

Until now the test was a total failure.

He turned to look at Seamus at the bar. He was gazing at him already, and gave him a toast. Then drank another glass of whiskey. Mark, somewhat confused, returned to his position.

"Hey, what am I supposed to do here?"

"I already told you, the girl in the blue dress."

"Only that?"

"Yep. Try to irradiate confidence. If you need me, I'll be here."

Mark again left Seamus alone at the bar and headed to the dance floor. However, just a couple of meters from the girl approached, a kind of imaginary force field stopped him. Trying to go through it, he ended up in the bathroom.

He washed his face. Although it didn't feel refreshing at all, it was useful for thinking. A small radio beep heard, a laughing voice spoke.

"You think you are special, but you are like every other young boys on their first time courting a girl."

"Seamus?"

"Who else do you think? You remind me of myself. Ah, even more delicious nostalgia."

"Is it necessary to steal her?"

"Steal? What do you mean? A woman doesn't belong to anyone unless she decides it, Marky."

"That does not help me."

"Try to invite her a drink. It's on the house."

"Roger."

With a little more confidence, he left the bathroom. The force field had disappeared. She was alone, leaning against the wall, headbanging to the rhythm of the song now playing. He moved a little closer, but he couldn't think of any way to open a conversation.

However, she detected his presence.

" _You'll be detected in 00:05..._ " Appeared in white letters covering a bit of his sight. The HUD again showed up, but only briefly, and then vanished with the other stuff like the zero ammo he had left.

She looked at him and gave him a small smile. Mark greeted her with a slight bow. Her smile didn't flush him like Grace's, but she was attractive enough to make him sweat.

"Oh, ah." He couldn't articulate words. Shit.

She blinked many times, as if waiting for him to say something worthy to answer.

"May I offer you a drink?" He tried very hard, as when he claimed James for his mask.

She giggled and nodded. "You may."

He tried to recognize her voice as VR normally didn't change it, but couldn't match it at all.

She couldn't be Emma. However, he chose to follow Seamus' orders, and see what happens.

Both went to the bar together, as the coloured lights fell all over them. Seamus was still there, but this time fiddling with the half-empty glass. He only greeted him with his eyes, and with a small expression with his eyebrows.

Mark gave the seat on Seamus' left to the girl, and then he sat next to her.

"Which drink, sir?" The bartender greeted.

"I'll have another scotch." Mark said solemnly, as if trying to impress her. She giggled briefly.

"And you, lady?"

"A glass of chardonnay would be fine."

"Coming right up."

The bartender left. Again Mark was speechless. A total disgrace. She seemed bored, double disgrace. He had to think something, but fast.

"Try saying your name first, dummy." A whisper was heard on the radio.

"Mark Chandar. Nice to meet you." He focused his attention on her.

"Hi, Mark. You can call me Emily." Yes, her smile could be pretty, but it didn't match Grace's.

Again, silence. His inexperience was a total curse.

"Try talking about the place. It's not too hard, mate."

"Nice night, don't you think?" It was the fastest thing Mark could think of.

"It's true, I've never seen such a beautiful sky."

"Not as much as you." He felt his hands suddenly cold.

No! It was too soon. Hell, what was he thinking?

"So cheesy, mate." Seamus didn't even bother to silence his chuckle.

"Aw, thanks. It honestly took quite a while to choose which dress to wear tonight."

"It was worth it, I think." Sudden fear stopped. "Do you go out often?"

"Nah, only when work allows me and when I have someone to go out with. Going out alone is not my thing."

"Oh, what do you do for a living?"

"I work with electronics. Despite I always dreamt of being a traveller, I have to settle doing circuits and that kind of stuff for now. What about you, Mark?"

SAS members on duty were forbidden to reveal their identity to anyone. He thought a VR test didn't count, but decided to not take the risk. Anyway, it was going to be boring and weird to talk about that.

"I'm a cop." He showed her his badge. It had to be useful for something at least. "I've had a day off after many weeks and I used it well, I think."

"Nice." She put a hand under her chin, examining it.

"Your drinks." The bartender suddenly appeared with a bottle on each hand.

He left one on the bar and crouched briefly, taking out two new and clean glasses, and filled them with the alcoholic liquid.

"Finally." Emily commented, settling in her seat.

"Nice." Mark replied, while the barman pushed their glasses towards each.

Mark sipped it all at once, while she slowly drank her brandy, making the greatest attempt to enjoy it. Apparently.

"A cop, huh?" Emily asked when she finished her glass. "You don't plan to arrest me, huh, officer?"

"I don't think I have reasons to do it." Mark smiled at her. "Yet."

"And what if I tell you that if you don't take me home, I'll make a bit of tipsy driving?"

"You just drank one glass. I don't think you'll get drunk that easily, Emily."

"Wanna bet?"

"I will consider taking you, but no promises."

"Yay. Bartender!"

They took one more drink each. This time slower.

"Who did you come with? A little while ago you told me you weren't here alone." Mark spoke so fluently that he felt totally out of character.

"Oh, with a co-worker. I saw him leave a long time ago behind a girl with a nice butt. His favorites."

"The one who were you dancing with?"

"Yes, that idiot. He's a total womanizer and just got here to get some new victims. You came here on your own, Mark?"

"No, there you see my colleague Seamus." The scotsman barely raised a hand. "He is supposed to be the designated driver, but apparently we will both go home by taxi."

"Unless I claim you first, hm?" Emily smiled seductively.

"Hey! You can't forbid alcohol for me! I have rights!" Seamus protested out loud. A good performance or he was brainfully drunk.

She turned to see him for a second, and then returned her attention to Mark.

"Haha, I guess you can't forbid the sweet feeling of drunkenness to anyone."

"Absolutely."

He could swear that Synthwave was playing on the dance floor now. The funny thing was that people kept dancing as if it were normal.

"Tell me more about yourself, Mark. How did you become a cop?"

"Hm ... I think it was a closed decision. I was always good at science and calculation. So either it was ending up locked in a laboratory, or active working in the field, and here you have me. If I wasn't a police officer, I would have enlisted in the army. "

"Oooh, so you're looking for action, huh?" She leaned towards him sensually, accentuating her breasts, making Mark go back slightly, causing him to look the other way. Although his own gaze felt magnetism to her chest, it was not enough to make him.

"I guess so. You? Where do you want to travel?" He preferred to change the subject to avoid his discomfort.

"Where money and destiny direct me. There is no place where I don't want to leave my mark."

"You are her Mark now? Such a prodigy..." Seamus whispered on the radio.

"Where have you gone already?" asked Mark, trying to ignore the tease.

"Most of Europe already. I would like to travel to America, but there isn't any chance for now."

"You'll know when you're ready. Make sure to bring souvenirs, okay?"

"Oh? Don't worry, I'll bring you something. For now, let's drink like there's no tomorrow!"

She was beginning to make weird giggles. He supposed it was for drinking too fast. It wasn't real for him but maybe for her, it was.

However, Mark again saw blurry. He didn't feel nothing out of place, it seemed the person he controlled was getting drunk. He began to fiddle with the scotch glass, releasing a soft hiccup.

"I told you not to drink so fast." Seamus' voice was totally muffled with the music.

Mark looked at the scotsman, who had been with the same glass for a long time. He seemed to be thinking, but he was actually amused watching the show of Mark Chandar's first courting.

Despite he still had some liquor left in the glass, he decided not to touch it.

The bartender had already come to serve her third round to Emily. She had a slight pink tinge on her cheeks, but she kept drinking without any worries.

"Drinking to kill sorrows?" Mark asked, trying to distract her somehow.

"No, I don't think so. Have you ever wanted to drink just for the pleasure of getting drunk?"

Mark shook his head.

"No? Then why do you drink? To impress me?"

"Mark, try to divert the conversation. No answer to that question is correct." Seamus voice was a little concerned.

"I drink to give myself courage to ask you for a dance." Mark shrugged, slightly certain that telling the truth was the best option.

Emily started laughing and then took a sip of her brandy.

"If you are telling me it means that you haven't drank enough yet."

"Let's dance, Emily." the young brit chuckled, and before finishing his glass, he offered his hand.

She was about to accept, when an intruder came from nowhere. He wore a red jacket with gray sleeves and dark pants. His slightly brown hair was still visible with the wild exchange of colored lights.

"Emily? I thought you ditched me again." His voice sound distorted first, and then turned into normal.

"Jim, you don't need me to chase girls, at all."

This Jim seemed to have ignored everything she was saying.

"You are the designated driver today!"

"Not anymore. Marky will take me home, right?" Emily jumped from her seat and hugged Mark slightly, placing her head on his shoulder.

"Hoho. They finally tamed you, huh?" Jim crossed his arms. "Be careful, man. This girl is slightly insane."

"Look who's talking!" She squeezed Mark's arms, making him shiver at the contact. What Seamus had said was serious, the mind deceives the body.

"Hey, hey. Quiet. Go dancing. Time is gold." Jim sat in the seat where Emily was. "Bartender, some beer, please."

"Coming." replied the bartender, who had been watching the show all along.

Mark, since he had everything done and honestly there was no reason to be rejected, he drank what was left of his glass, and took Emily's hand.

"Let's dance." He said again.

She let herself go with him, just when a dance genre song started.

* * *

After a while, three figures were sitting together at the bar. The bald, the red shirt guy and a girl dressed elegantly.

"Are you sure he won't notice?"

"He's enjoying himself with a non-existent lady. Let him live the dating sim fantasy."

"Ah, bollocks. So why did I bring Emma for?"

"She was useful anyway. If we hadn't brought her, Mark would have suspected from the beginning."

"Hey! I thought Mark was going to woo me!"

"You too? This is ridiculous. I'm starting to think we are in a romantic comedy shit."

"I'm joking. It was going to be fun to see emotions of a young first-timer."

"Eh, Echo, how much time do we have left?"

"About thirty minutes. This was quick. I think I put it on easy difficulty." Masaru's radio voice laughed.

"Everybody starts on something, I guess."

"And if we make Emma do the move?"

"Such as?"

"We can make the situation spicy, don't you think?"

"Don't be cruel with Marky. It's just his first try."

"And he bloody succeeded. Don't worry, I'll make the least cruel possible thing I can think of. Echo, you can control the girl, right?"

"I can change her interactions, but not directly. Everything is set, Smoke."

"Hm, I think I have an idea."

* * *

Retrowave casual beat helped with the clumsy dance steps Mark were doing. He had never practiced before, so he imitated the rest. Emily seemed to enjoy herself and having a good time.

There wasn't much physical contact, but it was because he didn't want to. He didn't sincerely know what was stopping him. Although Mark knew that he was dancing with Emma, he couldn't touch her without feeling self-conscious.

It was too obvious. Emily is similar to Emma and Jim to James. He thought this was going to be like a kind of puzzle but apparently not. Neither did they have so much time, right?

They spent two songs dancing and she approached him, almost yelling into his ear that she had go to the bathroom.

Mark nodded and returned to the bar, with nothing else in mind. He found the two he had previously left in there, plus a new customer. She wore a white blouse, and her hair was loose. He unintentionally caught a glance of her legs. She had a black skirt that covered just over her knees.

He wanted to sit to Seamus' right, but that was occupied by a lonely man in glasses who seemed to pity his own life and his employment. The scotsman and "Jim" seemed to be listening his sad story. So he only had the option to sit on the girl's left.

The bartender was already waiting, cleaning a glass. This time he offered nothing, just looked at him.

"A beer please."

In less than ten seconds, he had a beer jar served just before him.

He started drinking from time to time, waiting for Emily to get out of the bathroom.

However, he finished it, and had to ask for another. She still didn't return. He tried to look at the door to the women's bathroom, but strangely just a crowd went dancing, blocking his view. He began to headbang absentmindedly, as he recognized the song.

" _Mud on your face, your big disgrace..._ "

He looked sideways at the girl on his side. She drank a kind of red cocktail, but he had no idea of its name. It was adorned with a lemon slice and a sorbet. She had her elbow resting on the bar, with her hand on her cheek. She seemed bored, with an annoyed face.

Mark was deciding whether to speak to her or not, when she realized that he was checking her out.

"You need something?" she said with a firm tone, enough to sound a little bit aggressive. Her voice didn't sound familiar either.

"Nope, sorry." he replied, a bit scared at the sudden question.

"Hm, ok." she returned her attention to her colorful drink, taking a few sips.

After awhile, Mark was starting to feel irritated. Emily wasn't coming back. Emma had taken off her headset, maybe? But Seamus and James were there, talking about some random topic with the unfortunate mob.

"Uh, Seamus, what should I do now?" Mark whispered on his radio, hoping no one but him would hear.

"Emily haven't returned yet? Well, I guess you can go for another girl, right?"

"What? The mission was inviting someone to dance. Not anything else."

"At a party you don't dance only one girl, Marky, unless you're in the pitiful row of the married."

"Uh huh, riiiight. Emma left or what?"

"Emma? I don't know what you're talking about, mate."

"Emily wasn't Emma?"

"No, I don't know where you got that. Anyway, we don't have much time, enjoy what you can." Seamus cut the communication with a click.

"Hey!" Mark raised his voice, unconsciously.

What Seamus said was too ambiguous. Was it all planned by his colleagues, or not? If not, it couldn't be so bad, right? However, he only understood one thing: Go for another girl.

Easier said than done.

He looked to his right. She still had the same expression and the same drink. Its volume had been lowered to its half, and the slice was gone.

She looked pretty. He could go for her too. Wait a minute, where did the sudden trust in himself came from?

" ** _This isn't real._** " He thought.

"Greetings." Mark murmured, trying to get her attention. Was that too formal?

"Hi." She replied, taking a sip and looking at her drink at the same time. She didn't ever bother to turn to him.

"Nice night, right?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"You really want to know?" She turned to see him.

"Yes." Mark finished what was left of his drink in one sip.

"Well, some asshat ditched me. I'm just waiting to this." She pointed at her red beverage. "To get finished."

"Do you really want it to end?"

"If the disc jockey keeps queuing up the awesome music, then I may go for a second. There aren't many places of good taste now."

"I agree with you. That's why I dislike going out."

"And if you don't like going out, what are you doing here?"

"Relax, with a little alcohol. Police life is stressful."

"Oh, so a cop, huh? Got your badge?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I just find hard to believe you are the youngest police officer in the world."

Mark complied her demand, and took out his only gadget, again.

"Sergeant Mark R. Chandar, woo. What do the 'R' stand for?" She looked at him, then his photo.

"Not a fan of giving my second name. All I can tell is short."

"So young and being a cop. I bet you have a lot of girls behind." She returned his badge.

"Nope. I don't like the 'one night stand' thing."

"Ho? Is that so?"

"Yeah, and what's your name? If I may know."

"Jane. Just Jane."

"Well, Jane. May I get you a drink?"

"Are you trying to impress me, big boy? I can buy my own."

"Well, I tried. Bartender, another Johnnie Walker, please."

"Ha. Good choice. Another Bloody Mary for me." Jane raised her hand briefly.

"Immediately." The bearded bartender, super attentive, answered.

* * *

"Look, Porter. Our little Marky, flirting with his first real girl."

"If this doesn't leave him ready for Grace, nothing will."

"Unless we have made him a total womanizer."

"I don't think so. Besides I think he has only eyes for her. Didn't you see his reaction when Grace kissed him?"

"Yes, totally like a boy when he sees his first crush. Ow, nostalgia again."

Both of them toasted two glasses of whiskey, full of ice cubes with a clink.

"For the effort." James announced.

"Aye. By the way, you mentioned that you had another plan at lunch. Was it this one?"

"Nah, this one came out of nowhere. I know Kapkan and Frost like to go out on weekends and by chance tomorrow is Saturday. I gave them the small idea of a double date with those two."

"Even if I approve the dating idea, why the extreme sequence on the chat? There will be a total misinformation, Porter."

"It will make it fun. I never thought the matchmaker job was so entertaining."

"I guess. We still can hang out with him later and see his talent naturally in the bar."

"Hm, Could be good."

"Bartender! Give me another imaginary scotch, please."

"Imaginary?" The beard guy repeated. He seemed confused.

"Oh, sorry about that. Just give me another one." Seamus cleared his throat and pushed his glass.

* * *

"So, wanna dance?"

"With you?" Jane replied with a rejective tone, but couldn't hide a giggle.

Mark was doing a good job. Not many had managed to get her attention, but Mark's young appearance and inexperience made him look interesting. Even if she wasn't into boys.

It seems, because she was sure that outside everything was going to be the same. He was going to be the boring man who couldn't speak without his mask.

Mark didn't seem to have realized that it was her. He just simply believed that she was another NPC created by the environment.

That got him to speak freely, without his own limitations. She could swear he had taken the police raid he had just told her from a TV series.

He had a certain talent for telling stories just as Seamus had.

"Yes, with me. If you don't want to, it's fine. While you dance on your own, I'll go drown in alcohol and blame you."

"Haha, no sweets for you."

"Is that a no?"

"Let's dance, dumbass." She stood up, setting aside her glass.

"Yessssss." He stood up as well, and had to grab the bar to avoid falling on the ground.

They both went to the dance floor, although Mark seemed already drunk. However, he danced the retro very well in that state. She frowned in confusion. Where did he learn that?

Little she knew that Mark was pressing anything he could.

" _And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike..._ "

She liked that one, and started to follow his dance partner's guide.

After some while, the song had changed to a slower one. She glanced to her left and saw Seamus and James seemed to be playing cards again.

Trying to go unnoticed, Emma guided Mark inside the crowd dancing and she embraced his neck, pulling him close.

He seemed to be surprised in addition to his character's drunk face. Not knowing what to do.

"You have to put your hands on my waist, Marky." She whispered in his ear, drawing a little closer.

"Uh, it's fine. Thanks for the -hic- tip."

They danced everything they could. A little pop, some disco, and a bit of retrowave that he didn't sincerely know how to dance yet.

However, something unexpected happened.

Mark saw Emily dancing with another guy. He didn't know how to react, but he knew was enjoying himself now with his new partner.

He supposed it would hurt but it didn't, thanks to the program script.

It didn't matter, he was already fulfilling the mission. Despite dancing with an NPC and no trace of Emma, he was doing it.

Still, if this was a hide and seek game, he wanted to find her.

There had only been three girls with whom he had contact in the duration of the program, so Emma had to be one of them. Unless she was a random girl still being hidden.

Hell, he was overthinking it too much. He locked his eyes on Jane.

They were in a slightly compromising position, with her head resting on his chest, dancing a romantic song. He found it hard to control his character, but could manage to dance without pressing randomly everything.

"You're Emma, right?"

"About time, Mute."

He felt his usual fear to physical contact, but remembered he wasn't touching anything. He suddenly felt free from his chains and blurted out everything he had on mind.

"How was I supposed to know that Emily wasn't you? They almost copied your liking, as electronics and travelling!"

"That was Porter's idea. How did you know about my tastes?" They kept dancing as she turned to see his face.

"I heard you mention them a couple of times. Hard to ignore you at the workshop, really."

"Aw, you flatter me."

"It was suspicious because everything with her was going too perfect. At least you scared me with your feminine essence."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Her voice had a sweet and menacing tone.

"Ah, of course." His unease started to show up again. "Do you think I-hic-ready for Grace?" He managed to say, before losing access to his vocal cords.

"You are ready, Mark. From the moment you met her."

"That was beautiful. And cheesy as hell." A voice was heard, but not on the radio, but with the same clarity as Emma's character.

James and Seamus appeared from his right, laughing.

"One last dance? Masaru told us that the hour ended a bit ago. "

"I would be offended if you didn't ask."

Although none knew very well how to dance the song that was playing, they seemed to enjoy the moment. They made weird dance steps as all their characters were drunk, which made the surrounding NPCs laugh a lot. The group didn't care as they didn't exist anyway.

"We should make a challenge or competition in this, huh?" Seamus commented, trying to keep up with Porter.

"Gonna beat you anyway, Sledge!" Emma said, dancing just as she knew.

"Yeah, try to convince the old man." Porter panted.

"I can convince him." the young brit said with a robotic tone.

"If you say something, he'll think I am the one who is coercing you."

"Masaru, it's time already?" Seamus said with a booming voice, try look upwards.

"Yes, it's time." The voice of the japanese resonated, like the loud music.

The sound suddenly stopped and the image was lost, leaving only a few blue letters that formed: "Program finished."

"Aaaaahhh, the taste of reality." He heard Seamus say, he was probably stretching.

Upon hearing that "real", all the courage he had gathered in the program vanished. He took off his headset and could not fight a single second against his instinct of covering himself with his mask, which was right next to him.

"Ah, the wonderful taste of reality." He murmured.

He felt unready again. If Porter knew this, oh, this was going to be a massacre.

* * *

 **A.N.: Re-wrote this a little bit. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

The workshop was almost empty, and Masaru Enatsu had returned to work.

Despite his main drone he even used to bring himself potato chips was working optimally, for him this was not enough. He was now working on his secondary drone as his main one was resting peacefully on an adjacent worktable.

He was enjoying the peaceful and quiet lonely ambience and was working faster than usual. He had already wasted enough time with his SAS colleagues.

It had been a long time since he had left them and Twitch in the VR room. Anyway, his only job was to monitor the program, and so he fulfilled his part of the deal with Porter. Now all Masaru had to do was wait for him to do his part as well.

He had to admit, he had fun. It hadn't crossed his mind that his innocent project that slightly changed VR could be helpful to someone like Mark. Although he found it hard to believe that someone like him never had played a single dating sim as they were so popular in young and hormonal boys.

Mark was seriously a complete novice on the dangerous mission he was on.

It was getting dark. Since it was a day off, it was very likely that many operators went out to have fun, or have a casual meeting in the living room at night. Maybe both.

Masaru wasn't interested in any, and he planned to work even past midnight. He sent Yokai to turn on the lights.

While he watched as his drone returned flying back to its place, he remembered that he hadn't seen Yumiko since lunch. That was a bad omen. He shrugged it off and continued his secondary drone.

Yet he knew his roommate was coming here anyway. Ignoring her text messages was the worst bet he could've taken.

After some time of welding and messing up electronic mini-cameras on his gadget, he heard footsteps approaching. A female voice was humming a song he couldn't recognize, but with just that, he had already recognized who she was.

He stopped his screwdriver and looked at the door. Yes, it was who he expected to be. She had her laptop under her arm, apparently to work with the Logic Bomb.

Realizing that he was already there, Grace waved briefly at him.

Masaru just shook his head. Many times the same scenario had been repeated. However, something about her looked different. Her smile had changed from being mocking grin or even a fake one, to being joyous, or somehow reflecting the feeling of happiness, or sweetness, being as optimistic as possible.

"Nice." he muttered, refocusing on his work. Mark's progress was so far so good. Seeing that kind of smile didn't happen everyday. If ever.

 _"It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you..."_ Grace began to sing nonchalantly, annoying the japanese, on purpose, of course.

Her voice was bearable, but it was sharp and loud enough to distract him. Her karaoke abilities weren't that good.

Without thinking twice, he decided it was a perfect job for Yokai. Masaru quickly went to see his wrist device, then watched his drone fly right above her. A small hit to the head wouldn't hurt. Not much, to say the worst.

* * *

"Really, Mark? For real, mate?"

"I said no."

"But you said you were ready! What happened?"

"Not in the mood to talk."

James had already opened his mouth to continue arguing but Seamus interrupted, with a strong throat clearing in the distance.

Only Porter and Mark were in the small SAS common room. The young brit lounging all along the sofa, undoing the clasps of his gas mask. Normally that was an end of a conversation for him.

The other was sitting on the armchair, sprawled on it as well, his legs hanging in the air. He didn't seem too fond of the situation.

"Leave him alone, Porter. If he doesn't want to do it, it's his problem. He's not a kid." Seamus was in his room, changing his clothes.

"Uh huh. Hey Mark, mind if I ask Grace out? "

Mark sat and shrugged, he had enough. He got up and went to fetch his tablet in his room, grabbing his mask on the way.

Seamus turned off the light in his room and went out. He had sports clothes on.

"What's wrong with that mute IDIOT?" James clenched his teeth, trying to control his annoyance.

"You know he still can hear you loud and clear, right?" the scotsman laughed as he closed his door.

"That's the point of speaking ill of him, isn't it?" James narrowed his eyes, turning to him.

"It seems like you haven't lived with Marky the past few years. Come on, wanna hit the gym? At least it'd help with your disappointment."

"A'ight. Give me a minute. " James jumped up from his seat and went to his room.

Seamus slowly went to James' armchair and settled him back to its place. He had the bad habit of pushing it backwards.

"Remember that time isn't patient, Mark. And look at your badges, maybe that's the answer you are looking for."

Mark heard, but chose to be still on his bed. He knew which words the badge had on. He thought that was a motto to be used on war, not to a problem related to the opposite sex.

"Who cares who wins?" James chuckled, still in his room.

"Not this time, Porter. I honestly wondered when the motto would serve us after the torture in Brunei."

"Me too. Let's go. I don't like sharing my precious air with a depressing living being. " the short brit was out of his room, with the same clothes type of clothes Seamus was using. Comfortable enough for CQC training, too.

"I suppose. See you at dinner, Marky. " Seamus followed James, who had already gone out into the corridor and closed the door. It was better not saying anything else.

Mark waited on his bed for a while, chilling with the silence. There was nothing else to do for the day anyway. He had no desire to move at all.

Grace supposedly was in the workshop, so the idea of working was dead as soon as the thought came by. It wasn't his thing to go to the gym and Porter was being worse than a headache, so it was better to avoid being in his presence. So the best choice was staying quiet, for now.

However, he had already warmed both sides of his pillow. Unacceptable. Carefully, to not drag the blanket with him, he got up and walked to the common room and lay across the couch. It wasn't the comfort his bed offered, but for some reason he felt cooler.

For a moment he wanted to sleep, but the light right above his eyes didn't let him. As soon as he turned it off, the only remaining light came from James' room, who had left the door wide open.

The window inside was letting him know that the sun was still shining. It wasn't much, but the breeze that came through was pleasant.

He returned to his starting position, looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to think, because that would make him start fighting with himself, again. Trying to override his own mental functioning, he focused on the old reliable: Music. The slow beats were useful to relax, or at least it was for the other three who lived with him.

He wasn't used to listening to anything out and loud, as he was a little selfish with sound, but sometimes he did because it improved the atmosphere. A lot.

"Turn that off, Mute. I hate sleepy music." the old man couldn't bear any kind of wave stuff. For him music had died with the old rock, a.k.a. Queen or Rolling Stones. English stuff.

"I like lofi, Mark, but honestly I'm going to fall asleep if I keep listening to that while I work." muttered James, one of the hundreds of times they'd shared the long work table at the workshop.

Seamus never complained, but had fallen asleep many times in its presence. Couldn't blame. If Mark wasn't used to the many hours of study with that kind of quiet music involved, he himself would have fallen asleep twice as many hours in the workshop.

It felt good, even he couldn't feel the breeze directly. He had forgotten his mask in his room, but it was not necessary at all. It wasn't as if Grace was magically going to appear outside. Not this time. His senses started to feel numbed and his mind became lost with his thoughts.

* * *

"So, are you ready to ask her out?"

Mark didn't know how to tell him. It had been a game, and it had only been once. Was that really what it took to be ready? In which reality?

"Maybe." He didn't want to say no, after seeing that Emma and Echo had taken a bit of their time off to come to help him. He could disappoint the other two later.

"That's enough for now, I guess." James seemed satisfied with that answer.

Masaru said goodbye to them almost instantly, after asking them to tidy the place up, emphasizing "as Porter had promised." The french woman was still there, who had settled on the sofa from before, watching the members of the SAS do the work. It wasn't much, but it was necessary. Mike liked things clean as the usual old recruit instructor, and using the VR was a favor.

Mark got a seat at the other end of the couch where Emma was. It wasn't his thing doing housework, but James didn't even ask him anyway.

He felt that his presence wasn't needed at all, but the chances of finding something to do in his room were less than 1%. Although there was the idea of going to the workshop. Moni could use a improve.

He didn't like being in the same place as other people, even if these were his roommates. Sometimes they even made it more complicated, but this time it was a very good opportunity to learn what it was like to participate in a small casual meeting. If this could be considered one of those.

Mark had to gather as much experience as he could. Normally he only listened and answered. That's why talking to a girl casually was so complicated for him.

Seamus had taught him that "Hello" was a nice pick up line. At least on easy difficulty.

Their conversation topic was super trivial, obviously something that Mark couldn't meddle in, simply because he couldn't figure out how.

So he decided to look at his cell phone, only catching a few loose words from each sentence said. James and Seamus certainly didn't seem thrilled to be cleaning the equipment, but they also knew it was going to be a boring afternoon.

At that time he understood that everyone wanted to return to the VR program. Truthfully, he did too. Neon lights could be addictive in excess, and also the supposed feminine contact.

In a random moment, the old man arrived, but only to make sure that they had already stopped using the machine. James was the only one who saw him, his visit being so brief that he didn't even had the chance to wave at him. Nor did it distract from the topic of conversation.

"Resounding success in high school, Porter? Really?"

Mark sighed. He hated this one in particular. Especially since he had nothing to say.

"Yeah. I like to weigh my options." James returned her attention to his french colleague.

"Oh? These "options" weren't blind, were they?" Emma made the quote gesture with her index and middle fingers, mocking him.

"I can assure you: They weren't. Now you, Twitch. Something exciting in high school? "

" _Oui_. There were bunch of "options" to choose from. Parties, late night studies..."

"Hoho. Can't deny that. How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Boyfriends? I like girls, Porter."

Mark chuckled softly inside his gas mask. His friendship with Emma always came down to this phrase: "Shame you are not a girl, Marky. Nights here could be so much _better_."

At least when she was drunk.

"He just wants you to say it yourself, Pichon. I don't think it's necessary to tell you he has rare kinks." Seamus clarified, with a disgusted tone, as he ran a small vacuum cleaner down the office chair Masaru had used.

"Hey, not so subtle, Cowden. As I was saying, how many girlfriends have you had? "

"Hm... only two. Enough to satisfy my curiosity." Emma winked at Mark when he accidentally met her gaze. He beared the sudden warm blood in his face and didn't flinch.

He already knew it. In any case, in the drunk memories he kept she was always present. At least until Seamus and James showed up.

"Ooh, suddenly, you can get very interesting, frenchie."

"Is that so? What about you, Smoke?" she asked, turning to him, crossing her legs.

James had opened his mouth to reply, but Seamus spoke before him.

"There were two. They both got scared and ran away. Can't blame them."

Mark curved a small smile. He had already heard that story. James had only loved two women in his life. So much that he forgot to have his "options" available when they left. Legend says he emptied bottles of whisky on his own those nights, with a bunch of women cheering. He didn't even remember their names.

Although it had happened very few times in the Hereford base, listening to anecdotes from James drunk and sad was worth it. The price was high anyway: Leaning on Seamus' shoulder as the three of them struggled to not fall to the ground during their return to their room. James never drank alone, and Mark was also resistant to alcohol, but his body seemed to sacrifice balance for memories. However, the hangover was inevitable.

"At least I had loving partners, sweetie." James automatically turned his annoyance into a mischievous look, intending to hit him back.

Seamus just shrugged. Mark knew he didn't like to talk about that.

"Even if I yearn for my youth, I have more fun now." he looked at himself, in his current situation. "Sometimes more than others." he added, as he sat down where Masaru had been, using the vacuum cleaner on the keyboard of the control PC.

Mark didn't know where that thing had come from, but James also had one, which ran through every seat in the defenders' booth. Surely those things had been inside the room from the start. Mark shook his head and continued to pay attention to his cell phone.

"Now, now, don't be mad. Better to love and lose than never to have loved, right? " James said, as he closed the booth. There wasn't much to clean up there anyway.

"Words from the guru of love, huh?" Emma crossed her arms.

"Meh. Porter has as much as a guru than Marky does as a talker." Seamus replied, spinning on his chair.

"Haha. You should take me one day to those bar hangouts, they look like fun. "

"Anytime. Having a drink with someone who isn't neither Maestro nor Porter would be nice. I warn you: I don't share any prey."

"Don't worry, me neither. And Mark? Can't he...? Oh right, he obviously can't do well as a wingman."

"Without the mask he can't speak, remember."

"He just needs enough alcohol. Vodka, if we are serious. By the way, if you like girls, why did you get so cuddly with him in VR? " James asked, with excessive curiosity.

The young brit stopped his scrolling. He had a slight interest in her response.

"Can't a girl at least dream of hugging a handsome boy in the middle of the neon lights?" Emma laughed, leaning her back.

It didn't seem like a serious answer, but it described one of the lines in his bucket list. Mark sighed and returned to his endless search for good memes.

"What do you think about that, Marky?" James said, without looking at him, entering the attackers' booth. His voice had the usual teasing tone.

Mark looked at him, his expression empty. He took a deep breath, channeling the little social energy he had gathered in the VR.

"Yes, I would like to dance again."

Seamus clapped, with a smirk. James whistled. Mark rolled his eyes, it wasn't that weird. Emma turned to her left, and looked at Mark thoughtfully.

"Mask off. " she simply said.

"Uh ..." Mark automatically went into defensive mode, and looked at Porter. He was innocently still cleaning, even though he seemed to not be doing anything.

He analyzed the situation. Oh, not again.

Actually, he had already done it with Porter and Seamus, with a lot of effort and years of confidence. Lunch was a clear example.

Obviously, drunk was much easier. The problem was Emma, and alcohol was not an option. He was determined to show at least some progress to the one who had helped him.

Slowly he undid the clasps of his mask, and took it off, before the eyes of the Scotsman and the French with Porter deliberately ignoring him.

His comfort zone disappeared. The new oxygen felt suffocating, despite being exactly the same. He barely endured the desire to put it back on. He never thought he would prefer that Porter had taken it from him. He was shaking, He had not planned this. He hardly swallowed, fighting his own reactions and took a deep breath.

"Aw, just say you love me, Marky." Emma forced a smile, trying to make him feel ease.

The effect was completely opposite. The discomfort began to grow throughout his body. He had to find a way to run away, as usual. However, he felt a little guilty. His colleagues had invested time in him.

Ah, fuck it.

"Ha-Hi, Emma." he closed his eyes as he spoke. Two and half words, was it enough?

He opened his eyes. She was still looking at him. Seamus was giving him a thumbs up, while Porter just looked at him, surely feeling pride of the "grasshopper".

"Dance." he managed to continue, but very low.

He acquired his empty expression again. Trying to look as normal as possible. However, he felt flustered, with warm blood flowing in his face, and feeling coldness on his hands.

"Dance what?" Emma moved a few inches closer, enough for him to feel her feminine presence in all its glory.

He couldn't take it anymore. He quickly grabbed his gas mask and put it on. He relaxed to the point of ending up leaning on the armrest on his side of the sofa.

"Well, I tried." Emma returned to her initial position leaping gracefully backwards. She didn't seem disappointed, but neither was she proud.

"Are you kidding, right? He said four-words-in-a-row. It's a brand new record for him. " Seamus smirked, emphasizing his words showing four fingers.

"I don't think it'll take only four words to ask Grace out, Sledge."

"Nah, love has nothing planned for anyone. Who knows what might happen."

"Well said." James had suddenly appeared next to Mark, patting him on the shoulder. His little vacuum cleaner was gone, like Seamus'.

The young brit had already regained his composure, and was looking with disgust at his roommate. Although it was already habit. He didn't know any other way to look at James.

"Not bad for a first timer, Mark." Emma commented, trying to get him to talk again.

James and Seamus looked at each other instantly, letting out a mocking chuckle. Apparently they both had the same idea.

"That's what she said?" Mark had heard that joke from his roomies so many times that he had said it in reaction, but the last word had an uncertain tone, perhaps unconsciously reacting to Emma's presence.

The french woman opened her eyes wide, not waiting for that answer. Honestly no one expected it.

"Hey! I was going to say it! " James protested, curving a corner of his mouth.

This laugh was contagious. Soon Emma and Seamus were laughing too. Mark had never gone along with it in that regard. His own habit of never laughing without the presence of memes didn't let him.

However, he remembered the VR. Jane and Emily had made him laugh, somehow. He chuckled, and realizing what he had done. He gulped, canceling the expression, but it was already too late.

"See? He CAN laugh! The VR is incredible."

"It's not _that_ impressive." Emma raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"He has laughed as many times as his girlfriends' counting, Twitch."

Mark looked at Seamus, narrowing his eyes. James usually said that. Nonetheless, it didn't hurt his geek pride. Well, maybe. Just a little.

"But he's all laughs with me! At least the times we talk... "

"Uh... any electronic and alcohol been involved?" James asked, remembering Jäger's party.

She thought for a moment, putting her hand under her chin. Of course, whenever Mark laughed with her or his tablet or liquor served by James was present.

"Oh."

"You see? He's progressing and that's all that matters. "

"I thought we had something special..." Emma brought her right hand to her own heart, hurt. She faked a sob, but couldn't hide a grin.

"Crocodile tears, huh?"

"Aye. Well, I'm hungry. See you later. " She stood up and went to the door.

"Thanks for the help, Pichon. It's good to know there are still nice people around the base."

"I didn't do it for you, Porter. Mark is a strange enough individual and anyone would be curious about him. Even Taina."

"Unfortunately, I think she hates me. You were the only candidate we thought of."

"Oh, then call me if you need anything. I like ex-pe-ri-men-tation." she said getting to the exit, emphasizing each syllable. Then she waved her hand as she was leaving.

Porter whistled, obviously checking her backside. He spent almost a second staring at the air after she left. He didn't expect her returning almost instantly, surprising him and the other two.

"I heard that Dokkaebi was going to the workshop." Her gaze locked on Mark. "Go get her, tiger."

With that said, she left. The canister user kept looking at her, fixed on the place he wasn't supposed to be looking.

"Ooh. Tremendous wasted potential. "

"She would never notice you, mate. Anyway the closest one to get in her pants is this masked fella. " Seamus had also stood up, and had approached the sofa. "Any plans for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Total boredom." Mark muttered, feeling comfortable after quite a while.

"Good plan, isn't it?" Porter asked, adding sarcasm to each word. "But I have a better one for ..."

"We can go have a drink tonight, right?" Seamus suggested, purposely interrupting James.

"I think it's about time for me to go. It could be good, huh?" Mark was completely out of character, realizing he had to go along with Seamus.

James had his mouth open, but didn't say a word.

"Oh? What am I seeing? A changed Marky?" Seamus raised both of his eyebrows.

"Yes... Yes..."

The young brit was quickly out of ideas. He wasn't very good at improvising.

"Or we could get Marky to the workshop. Yes?" James looked excited, though he swallowed his annoyance for not letting him speak.

"Great." Mark answered, with his sad and muffled voice.

* * *

At least he had already got rid of Porter. He had always felt his perseverance was admirable of him, but now it was counterproductive. James wasn't going to give up.

Mark sighed. The beats had calmed him down enough. He could close his eyes and stay there, just existing. His internet search algorithm never disappointed.

He didn't want to change anything. He liked life as it was now, although he couldn't talk to girls or having "selective mutism", medical terms thing. This "thing" had progressed positively, yes, and could be useful, in many areas. He had a sense of humor, very well attenuated, but he had it deep within.

Both options were bad. It wasn't just feeling insecure because she could say no. In any case, he could overcome her refusal by finally agreeing to go out with his roommates and get drown in alcohol to burn his sorrows, and possible nicotine. As long as it wasn't whiskey or vodka, he'd be fine with it, although his self-esteem and psychological health were at stake. Maybe his own mutism turns into something worse and he won't go out for lunch again, like he used to do.

Besides, he didn't know how to tell Porter AGAIN he wasn't used to chit-chat, at all. And he already knew that. Perhaps that strange human being also liked try new things. Ah, thinking about it like that could be misconceived in many ways.

If, by an unlikely almost impossible stroke of luck, she said yes, it could turn his life upside down, but he was a man of routine, and routine is stronger than love, or so he had heard. Anyway, her smile, her lips, her hair, the slightest physical contact made it all worth it. He was fucking head over heels for her, like a teenager.

A fierce fight with himself was raging. Barely aware of his surroundings, he fell asleep. Her cell phone kept sounding, but the beats weren't enough to be disturbing.

A sudden heat woke him up. He opened his eyes.

Pink mist covered his field of vision. He saw changing lights, as if he were at a club or party. He rubbed his eyes. He could hear ambience music, along with voices he already knew, but there wasn't any people to be seen..

"Hey! I'd never knew you liked hanging out to these places, old man! " Porter's voice was unmistakable. The problem was that Mark couldn't see him. He hardly even could detect any face at all.

"Neither would I, huh. Wow, another girl for me? _Hello_ … "Mike's voice seemed calm and confident, with a seductive tone in the last word.

He managed to see several figures, to later realize that he was sitting, possibly in a strip club, judging that in front of him was a platform, with a brass pole in the middle, with an invisible dancer, apparently. As he looked around he saw other platforms, empty as well.

He was alone at his table, and he couldn't see the faces of the other customers at the other places, although their voices were recognizable.

" _Common love isn't for us_..." could detect a slow effect on a song that he had recently listened to. It was very pleasant to hear, as the voice was deep and went with the flow.

"Oh come on, dude! l chose the blonde! " he managed to hear Thermite's voice in the distance, close to one of the platforms.

"Didn't you like redheads, Trace?" Dominic's voice was heard from the same distance.

"What?! No!" His angry voice turned into a nervous one.

"Don't worry, friend! My lips are sealed." Elias' cheerful voice stood out from the other two, totally out of context. He didn't belong to that place, at all.

Mark smirked. It was totally unlikely that so many operators were in a place like that at the same time, and even negative odds if Mike was among them. He realised he was dreaming. It wasn't possible this was really happening.

Near him was a tall glass of various colors, with an umbrella, and next to it, proudly standing, the pot with the reddish-colored cactus. He curved a smile when he saw it, and caressed the petals softly, as if it were a pet. Its remittent was still there, but next to its name was a heart drawn in red ink, something he didn't remember putting on it.

"What's wrong Seamus? Can't hold your liquor?" Emma's voice dragged her words slightly. Mark turned in reaction to her direction, though he still saw nothing, just blurry figures.

"I like to keeping things on place, Emma, but if you want to contest, then bring it on. Hey, Tachanka! " Seamus called for his fellow operator, his voice not any different from usual.

"Speak up, comrade!" Alexsandr reported instantly, as if it hadn't been necessary to call him that loud.

"You, me and Pichon. The first one to fall pays the entire round. "

Mark chuckled. Those kinds of competitions had happened before. He had seen Emma falling before, and had always repeated the same words for her sake: "Oi, Doc!"

Unfortunately he only saw silhouettes move. It was fun to see how that transparent liquid affected their brains' function.

"Ah..." Mark couldn't get if that was out of pleasure or something else. He heard the clink of glass with a surface, one sound after another, to finally be three. "Another one! We will not stop until dawn!"

"That's how I like it!" Alexsandr held, while Mark could detect his figure move, so that he could serve the other two.

" _Merci beaucoup, mon ami!_ "

Suddenly, Mark saw how girls of different and generous features appeared, one by one. Blonde, brunette, redhead, and some colors were obviously not natural. Some of them positioned next to each brass pole dance platform, and remaining ones vanished behind the pink mist. Apparently it began to dissipate enough to see them clearly move, but with seconds passing, they hid again. Maybe he didn't know enough about female seductive moves and his brain just hid it.

"Oooh. Sight for sore eyes." He managed to hear Seamus, with genuine emotion in his voice, something he didn't usually have.

Mark shrugged. He had never seen anyone dance for him in person. so he associated that his mind couldn't create that idea. Although he could remember some odd movie, right? He was curious.

" _Lights out and follow the noise ..._ " the song felt nice. He seldom listened to songs with vocals, but this one had something... unique. It gave him the same feeling that the synthwave offered, with a touch of sensuality he couldn't describe, totally influenced by the place.

"Whoa, whoa, there's enough James for you, ladies ...!"

The nirvana of the neon lights could be in the middle of everything, but he preferred to stay calm, still, on his seat. Maybe that was what the dream was about.

He focused on the cactus. What could the small plant be doing in such a place? He haven't felt its new owner's presence at all...

He looked at his drink. He took the glass and took a few sips, but felt nothing, although he saw the volume of the liquid vanish. He left it back on the table.

He wanted to deny it, but he felt a bit lonely. Laughter could be heard in the distance, mostly female. The sharpness of it contrasted the deep sound of the song, which still continued.

Maybe he wanted to see a girl dance for him. Mark was a boy after all.

In front of him was still the empty pole dance platform. He guessed that maybe he wasn't thinking enough about it. Suddenly he saw a figure arise, with that damn pink mist covering it. However, this time it wasn't that dense. The closeness helped this time.

He narrowed his eyes to improve his vision. She was a girl, with a nice figure. She didn't have long hair, or maybe the mist was blinding Mark enough. It could be that she had short hair, or be a man. He could never assure. Never after... Ugh.

Mark remembered something he did not want to remember. He shook his head, focusing again.

He still couldn't see anything. Screw his brain and thoughts. The mist had formed a curtain around her, only revealing her silhouette. She began to dance, accentuating her hips and thighs, while her hands unconsciously guided the lucky viewer's gaze.

Mark leaned back in the chair where he was, grabbing and sipping his again full cocktail unconsciously. He didn't know what to do, besides enjoying the view.

He noticed the dancer was following the rhythm of the song playing. He couldn't imagine a better one for her. In one her moves, as she bent down slowly, hands on her separated knees and wiggling her hips rhythmically, he saw two strands of hair fall from her head and swayed from side to side. He recognized them. He had admired them for a long time now.

Mark blinked several times. He felt sudden heat, the same one he felt every time he met eyes with...

"Oh." he muttered.

 _"Who needs to go to sleep, when I got you next to me?"_

The beat started again and the mist cleared, revealing who was behind, just as she accentuated her derriere, as she got back to her feet.

She had blue shorts, which showed her legs almost entirely and her thighs were the meaning of visual pleasure. Mark had been mesmerized, watching her hands ran down her skin. She wore a white top with a heart on the middle, small enough to show her waist and a little bit of cleavage. She had a pair of black heels adorning her feet, and had almost no problem moving around. Her usual beanie was missing. Didn't matter at all.

Suddenly she grabbed the brass pole and began to circle around it, letting her fantastic figure be appreciated. She was doing nothing extraordinary, but Mark could only feel his salivary glands slightly increasing their production.

He had never stared at her chest. It felt... disgusting. But now it seemed like the opportunity, the one and only. He had always wanted to look at her without restriction.

Her face was beautiful, but seeing her entire body was a blessing. The perfect curves. The perfect edges. He couldn't help but feel a little aroused.

She suddenly met his gaze and smirked at him. Mark just noticed then that she didn't have her glasses. He chose to break to eye contact to close his mouth, embarrassed.

She didn't stop moving. She no longer was moving around, but had remained in front of the pole. She had leaned against it, her right hand with a firm grip behind her head. Her braids kept swinging side to side. Maybe Mark was just using that excuse to see what was right underneath them.

Her free hand went to her mouth, accentuating her slightly shiny pink lips. Two fingers, the index and the middle, began to descend from the lower lip. She opened her mouth, letting out her breath. Mark unconsciously waved the pink mist that was gathering in front of him.

Her hand descended tenderly, leaving no part without a splendid touch, while she bent down again, moving her hips, slowly.

Suddenly she leaned forward and dropped herself to the ground. Her butt was fully accentuated, while her chest was a little distance to the platform. Surprising the young and hormonal brit, she raised her head and began to crawl towards him, her eyes thirsty for contact.

Mark felt the temperature rise even higher, and he drank from his cocktail, not feeling refreshed at all. Although he could wish for her to come even closer to him, he knew they were always going to be separated by that dance platform.

Mark wasn't mad at all, because looking at the divinity of her figure was enough. He couldn't deny it, he was excited or that's what he thought he was. He didn't quite know how to describe this. He was a rookie after all.

The edge of the platform had stopped her. Or so it seemed. She rose back to her feet, still keeping the pace, and slowly went down a staircase, which had suddenly been uncovered by the pink mist. She began to walk to him, her toned figure getting closer.

The distance between them was short. Mark didn't know how to do. He was supposed to be an observer, no... he wasn't ready for this.

Sadly, he couldn't run away from his own mind. She kept advancing, pushing the table softly with her hip, to give her room to move.

" _So come on, come on, come on..._ " Her stunning presence was within his personal space.

The heat had a sudden contrast, with cold blood running through his own stomach. He couldn't move. Not even an inch. Mark still had the cocktail in his hand. She took it and with a quick movement put it away, disappearing.

Without warning, she sat on his lap, leaving a nice view of cleavage for him.

As a reflex, he looked away, but it wasn't that effective. Her dark eyes were a magnet and he couldn't avoid direct eye contact.

Mark felt weird. He wanted to run away, but he wanted to stay. Despite he hated physical contact, this was getting pleasant. He started to smell perfume, the same one he felt at lunch.

 _"Let's get physical..."_ She moved her lips along with the lyrics, narrowing her eyes, sensually.

He couldn't bear it and eliminated the distance between, and their foreheads touched. Her dark eyes glowed brightly. Her lips were closer than ever, at his reach.

She blinked, and playfully got an inch away, smiling flustered. Her hair fluttered slightly, releasing a thin strand, which swayed slightly from side to side.

Mark's body was already acting in reaction. With his left hand he brought her hair back to its place, without missing the opportunity to caress her face. Slowly, fingers going over, lightly brushing her cheek, down to her chin.

It was worth it. It was worth everything he had done so far. The torture of the SAS recruitment was worth it. It was worth having put up with the old man when he got to Rainbow. It was worth the six bullets he was shot in action. Everything for this moment.

* * *

The gym was what could be expected. Divided into Cardio, weightlifting and muscle workout. This area full of pure machines doubled the dimension compared to the CQC square, which was also there.

It had a square painted in three different colors to determine the ring. Yellow the center, green the middle and red the edges. It also had two large benches, mostly serving for spectators, and a place to leave the refreshments and towels.

Taina was almost always there, practicing on her own. Occasionally she was accompanied by someone brave enough to challenge her or her partner. No one could forget when she locked the old man's neck between her legs and made him give up before she kill him, judging by the maniacal grin she made and the deep red tinge Mike's face was getting.

The height didn't matter either. More than once Seamus had fallen before her, faithfully remembering her interrogation in the simulations. Nor did the speed itself, proving she could defeat Eliza, after a long and exhausting fight.

However, only one person in the base had been able to defeat her more than once and make her feel the heat and excitement of an even battle, at the same time. The fucking James Porter.

Taina had never taken him seriously. His attitude, his humor, HE was obnoxious. Nor did he take that much into account in the simulations. Honestly, it was better not to lean on his existence, unless her other three allies were dead.

However, when they fought on "friendly" terms. He suddenly changed his usual grin to a serious face. He caught her off guard, attacking her legs immediately. Normally she used them as lethal weapons, but being defensive didn't work very well for her. After a couple of blocked punches and one evaded leg grab, Porter managed to knock her off balance and knock her onto her belly. He put his knee on her back and immobilized her arms, waiting for her to give up. There was no way for Taina to turn the situation around so she simply tapped her palm three times to the ground.

He smirked and didn't say anything, just went to his companions to celebrate his achievement. With his SAS colleagues they went on to continue doing their routine, while Mark only were riding the immobile bike, as if he wanted to escape and not being able to do so.

Taina had practiced harder since then, feeling disappointed with herself. She was supposed to be her own gadget, but someone had defeated that. Someone who was only in charge of releasing strange yellow smoke to one place and another.

She became stronger and she could defeat Porter in later situations, but she wasn't satisfied. Not until she could crush him and make him beg for mercy.

"I'm in danger." the canister operator muttered as soon as he entered the gym.

She had automatically noticed his presence, but quickly looked away.

"Oh. Caveira is still there. Shadow Fighting, right?"

"Yep. Wanna spar today? I want to practice something new that I saw on the internet. "

"Do you want to show off with me, Porter?" I remind you that your rival is there. " Seamus pointed to the brazilian, who kept punching the air, restless.

"Oh, come on! I won't be that hard on you, I promise. "

"No. I just wanted to do some muscle, to spend some energies. She is always there anyway, if you change your mind."

"Bummer. You know if I miss any hit, she won't stop until my bones are destroyed."

Seamus shrugged. He started to do a bit of arm stretching right next to the weightlifting machine he was going to use. James followed, not sure if he was going to do anything. Coincidentally there was the bike that Mark always used right next to him. Maybe it was the way to spend the extra energy he had.

He pedaled for a while, chatting trivial things with Seamus as usual.

"Hey, hey, Have you played Plague Inc. yet?"

The attacker just looked at him, and shook his head side to side, briefly, before grunting as he started another routine.

"It's just so cool, man. Figure, you can kill the entire human race with a little virus..."

Taina was having a break and apparently heard the conversation too, but her face didn't change at all. In her mind, that idea sound ridiculous, but intriguing. She might look for that game later.

After a while, Porter remembered something. He could annoy Mark a little more.

"I'll be back." the canister user stopped the bike, grabbed his small towel, and headed for the door.

"Huh? Okay." Seamus didn't seem surprised. He just hoped that at least that day would pass with no major incidents.

When he crossed the door, he encountered one of the russians. He didn't have a bad relationship with them, so he waved him briefly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the towel.

"Good afternoon, Smoke." James was surprised. Normally no one greeted him verbally, not as polite as that.

"Hi Glaz." It seemed rude even for him to not return the greeting.

Both nodded each other, but neither had more words to say. James moved again, with one goal in mind, the workshop.

The base was silent as all light outside turned artificial. There wasn't much noise coming from any room, except for the kitchen, where few operators had sneaked to see if there was any German lunch left.

The workshop light was on. When he peeked inside thirty minutes ago with Seamus, Echo was the only one there, as usual. He expected to find Grace, but disappointed he had to go on with Seamus to the gym.

Now could be the chance, unless Emma was wrong.

He peeked quickly into the room. Bingo! She was there, earphones on her. She was staring at Masaru, as she rubbed her head as if something had just hit her.

Yokai hovered silently above her, returning to his owner.

Preparing for his next move, he hid again by the door, putting the towel over his shoulder. He was sure this was going to bother Mark somehow, so he readied himself, and took out his phone.

* * *

The young brit was upset. It was honestly the best dream he ever had, one he thought it was his personal heaven.

He had never paid premium on any video platform because it wasn't strictly necessary for him, but an advertisement had just destroyed all his possible imagination, and his dream. He was going to hate that woman's voice for his whole life, although he was surely going to forget her in a couple of hours.

He had gotten up to wipe the saliva from his face, which had even fallen a little onto his vest. Fortunately, nothing had fallen on the sofa. A single stain and he had to clean everything. Old man's orders.

As soon as he could, he searched for the song that had been playing. It was a slowed version of the original, which didn't had any effect on him. As he played the previous one, he felt aroused, thinking of a certain korean girl. He sighed, trying to get rid of his impure thoughts.

Within two taps he returned to the lofi, but this time from an app where there were no ads, hopefully.

Having such a vivid dream, he felt like he hadn't even slept at all. Even more, he felt sleepy again. He realized that the sun had already gone down, and the breeze from the window was colder than before.

Leaving the bathroom light on, he went to Porter's room and closed the window, leaving it half-open. Some air had to get in.

There wasn't much in there.

His wardrobe was filled with extravagant clothing, such as flowery shirts, deep red hoodies, as well as the SAS uniform he never wore outside missions. The only thing that could stand out from all this was a black leather jacket.

Not even once Mark had seen him dressed in that. Maybe it was his hidden treasure. He looked to his own clothing, always in the same blue and dark. He had never been interested in fashion itself.

The old man didn't seem to mind either because he looked exactly the same every day.

The rest were the same as the other rooms, plus a lone disarmed canister on his nightstand. On the wall next to his bed he had a painting of two coconut palms, above and covering a woman's silhouette, in the moonlight with the purple sky, her reflection crystallized on the beach. It covered almost 80% of the wall. Mark examined it, as he did every time he entered his room.

James had made it out of pure spray cans, molds and shapes, but it didn't matter. It was worthy enough to be admired. Mark even wished that he had done it outside in the common room, just so he could fall asleep more easily on that sofa.

Shaking his head to avoid feeling numbed in that place, he got out, turned off the bathroom's light and returned to his couch. He lay down and closed his eyes, hoping not to dream this time.

Who was he lying to? The sweetness was addictive.

When he felt his relaxation to its fullest, Mark felt a single sound vibration nearby, interrupting the beats. He didn't move, no matter who it was, he could reply later.

It vibrated again within a minute. Two attempts. Possible contacts were reduced. He opened his eyes.

A small flashing green light interrupted the darkness, coming from his cell phone. Mark had an idea who it might be, but his message was the last thing that could interest him, so he simply reached out and turned the device around.

He usually gave up on three tries, but now he broke his own record and Mark had already lost patience. Yes, his guesses were correct.

Porter had filled his chat with spam. Mark had forgotten to silence him from the last time they had a meme fight. He was about to do it and delete everything, but he noticed that he had sent an image in the end.

It didn't seem like a meme at all, nor was it a weird thing. It seemed to be a photo. He mentally asked that the 257 kb of space to be worth it. And they were.

Grace was working on her laptop. She hadn't noticed the presence of the one who had taken the photo, so it was in her natural attitude. Carefree, her lips closed and her hands typing on her laptop. Her glasses reflected the glow from the white light just above her.

He felt lost, looking absentmindedly at her for a couple of seconds. Then he noticed Masaru, two tables away, staring at the camera. He had noticed him.

Mark didn't know what answer as a thanks wasn't the best he could send Porter, in ANY case. It was an excellent message if he thought about it, despite he was going to delete it in the near future.

What had happened at lunch with Seamus and the old man seeing a photo of her had been a total accident. He felt safe with Porter's absence, but it couldn't happen again.

He stared at the phone, just above his face. He had reduced its brightness as much as possible, and it was still annoying. He wanted to sleep, so he couldn't stand more than a minute of complete inactivity. He put the device back in its place, and pulled the table near, preparing for the immediate future.

Putting up James' annoyance for a few photos of Grace was a reasonable price. If his roommate was still willing to do that fair exchange, Mark would be happy to comply.

He had barely returned and laid on the sofa, and another message popped up.

Without moving anything not necessary, he just reached out and took his phone. Another photo. Curious, he downloaded it.

Grace was closer, and had noticed James' camera. He was offering her a hand, as if inviting her to something. She had stopped typing and was just looking at him, one hand on her cheek and a mocking grimace.

A small message appeared just below the previous one: " _Jealous_?"

Mark sighed. He silenced the chat and wrote three words that he had repeated many times in that bubble: " _Fuck off, Porter._ "

The music was still playing. Surely Porter could keep texting, but he wasn't really looking forward to replying. Anyway when he came back for sure he was going to keep being annoying. Even if what he said was true, he doubted Grace would accept him, unless it was a friendly hang out.

However, he couldn't help but feel something weird in his chest. Would she make the same expression if it was him asking instead of Porter?

" _Who knows?_ " he muttered, adjusting his head in the armrest.

He remembered that he hadn't deleted the photos, but he just let himself go with the sleepiness, until he dozed off again.

* * *

Seamus felt unease at its maximum. When Porter was gone, one of the russians had arrived. As usual he greeted him without much importance and continued with his routine, concentrating on the strength of his arms. However, after a while he began to feel something strange in the air.

He put the weight down in its rack again and used the excuse of drinking water to see what was happening.

Timur and Taina were practicing CQC. Seamus analyzed the scene for a moment. In a normal situation, she would quickly defeat him. It wasn't the russian's specialty to fight from so close.

However, they were both rolling on the square's mat. She was smiling, while he was trying to avoid any possible immobilization. Normally she didn't give a trace of happiness, unless she was fighting with Porter. A couple of seconds later, without much effort, Taina had him already on the floor, completely immobilizing him from his back.

"Magic words, Timur?"

"You are my best canvas, Taina." he replied, looking her in the eye.

Seamus knew, as anyone else at the base, that he painted her face before any mission.

She seemed satisfied with it and let him go. As he stood up, their faces brushed each other very closely.

However, and almost instantly, the scotsman felt two pairs of eyes briefly fixed on him. He choked on the water briefly and had to clean himself, then headed back to his routine. He was going to finish it as fast as possible because it wasn't his thing being the obvious third wheel.

As he was tightening his grip on the exercise object, he heard footsteps right next to him. Porter had returned.

"Well, if reverse psychology really works, Grace will have a date for tomorrow." he said when he stopped, leaning on the machine just next to his roommate.

"You really went to ask her out?" Seamus left the weight on the rack again, finally feeling the discomfort ease away.

"Of course not, Seam. I can be anything but a love wrecker for Marky. "

"To all this, was the phone sequence really necessary?"

"Yes, of course. Thatcher to Thermite to Castle to Blitz to Blackbeard to Valkyrie to Frost to Dokkaebi. Planned to make it even longer, but it was hard to remember if any of them hate each other. " James repeated the sequence like a robot, making Seamus raise an eyebrow.

"At least the ones you chose are cool people. Hopefully they don't distort the message that much."

"I count on it."

Seamus continued with his routine, while James switched between machines, unable to make up his mind.

After quite a while, when Seamus finished, he stood up, exhausted. While drinking water, he noticed that Porter was sparring with Taina, as Timur watched from the nearby benches. With his water bottle almost empty and his towel, he went to enjoy the show.

The sweet night had just fallen.

* * *

 **A.N.: Take care, thanks for reading.**


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